Christmas Stories
by The Half Mad Muggle
Summary: Completely random Albus and Severus stories to lead all the way to Christmas. Please come and join a journey of both angst and friendship and festive fun...
1. Chapter 1

**A Very Albus and Severus Advent**

_Welcome, one and all, to the SS19 2011 advent calendar. Twenty four nights of Severus and Albus one-shots with one theme in common - er - Albus and Severus!_

_Dedicated to every Albus and Severus fan. Merry Christmas! ~ SS19_

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><p><strong>1st December: 'You Don't See'<strong>

**_Minerva challenges Albus over his treatment of Severus, leading Albus to make a judgment of his own. Dedicated to His Lil' Half Blood Princess._**

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><p>There was a knocking at his door, and his visitor was lucky he was dressed. It was only just seven o clock, after all. Albus Dumbledore moved across his office, listening to the stirrings of portraits as they shifted position and awoke at his soft footsteps, opening the door. "Minerva." He greeted cheerfully, looking at his Deputy Headmistress who half smiled at him, "Albus. Did I wake you?"<p>

"As if I could sleep in and miss the dawn chorus, Minerva." Albus replied, "Come in, come in, I just had tea brought up." He gestured to the armchairs in his office, "I must admit, I am slightly bewildered as to your visit so very early in the morning. Is everything well?"

Minerva glanced at him as she sat down, "I do not think so. I was awoken, this morning. I went to the staffroom at three o clock, to find..." She paused. Albus watched her expectantly, "A student?"

She shook her head, "No. It was Severus."

Albus stiffened despite himself. He lingered before speaking again. "How was he?" He had turned away, busying himself with serving the tea.

"Not good, Albus." Minerva shifted position uncomfortably in her chair. "Albus. I have stood by this and watched what has been happening for nearly a year now - but I cannot stand by any longer. You need to address this situation."

Albus put the teapot down and turned to face Minerva, "Which situation are you referring to, Minerva?"

"Do not do this, Albus. You know what I am speaking about. Severus cannot keep playing this game." Minerva clasped her hands together in front of her, "You know that I trust you and that I will always trust your judgment - except in this. I do not understand why you are doing this to Severus. Forcing him to spy."

Albus hesitated before answering, "I have no choice, Minerva, and you know that well."

"He is falling apart. I sat with him until six o clock this morning, Albus. He hardly said a word. He just needed the company. You realise, of course, what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is doing to him."

"Severus will come for support when he needs it." Albus turned away from her, "When he needs me, he will come."

"He's frightened, Albus. He is frightened for his very life and you would do nothing to reassure him!" Minerva's tone had hardened and sharpened, "He is just a man - "

"Severus is in no danger when he is with Lord Voldemort, Minerva."

Minerva stopped, mid sentence, incredulous at this statement. "Is that what you think?"

"Voldemort will never kill Severus because Severus is the one link that he has to me - a spy, in my camp - a weapon, to be used against me when he needs be - he will never kill Severus, he will never mortally injure him, because he needs Severus. He needs Severus more than he will ever admit." The words were recited so bluntly, so monotonously, that Minerva knew this could not be - would not be - the truth. "You do not believe that, surely, Albus?"

"He is in no danger when he is with Voldemort - "

Minerva leapt to her feet, "Voldemort would kill him without a second thought!" She shouted, "You did not see him, last night, Albus! You did not see the blood and the paleness of his skin and the gauntness of his cheeks and the expression of utter hopelessness in his eyes - "

"I look at him every day, Minerva! I look into those eyes every day! I look at those cheeks and that skin and I see the many injuries that have torn him apart -"

"But still, you do not see." Minerva whispered. "You see what you want to see, Albus. You see a man who is willing to do what you command because he loves you, and he would sacrifice everything he owns for you. You see a spy, when you should see a weary soldier."

"I see Severus, Minerva. Do not think the emotions he feels for me are not mutual."

"Do you care for him, at all?"

This seemed to incite Albus' anger, "I care for that child more than you could imagine, Minerva!'

"He is no child, Albus! He is a man who is far older than he should be - living on borrowed time and paying the price for his mistakes - and for trusting you!" She stopped, realizing what she had said. "I didn't - I don't - that's not what I meant."

Albus had flinched, as if hurt by her words, "You think he should not trust me."

"I think - I just want someone to help him, Albus. I just want someone to stand beside him."

"Minerva. I appreciate your concern and I understand your intentions. But you have to trust me on this, Minerva. You have to understand that I have no choice in this matter - and neither does Severus, for if he were to turn from Voldemort now, Voldemort would kill him. If he stays near me, he stays the safest he could possibly be."

Minerva shook her head, "I cannot believe that you can truly stand here, in front of me, and say that, Albus. It - it breaks my heart. I thought you were stronger than this." She headed for the door.

"I love him, Minerva. I do love him - and it hurts me to send him to Voldemort, but I have no choice. That is the price I must pay - I must risk harm to those I care for." He looked down at the table before him, "Thank you for bringing this to my attention."

It seemed the conversation was at an end - but Minerva looked back at the final moment. "Have you seen him cry?"

Albus looked up, "Pardon?"

"Last night. When I found him. Severus was crying. Never, in twenty years of knowing him, have I seen Severus cry. Please, Albus. Do something. I beg of you, do something." She closed the door behind her.

Albus stared at the wooden archway for a long while after she left.

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><p>"Am I interrupting something, Severus?" Albus murmured from the doorway, eyes focused on what was the back of an armchair, where he imagined his friend and spy was seated.<p>

"No, Headmaster. Please, come in." Severus did not turn to look at him. He continued to stare into the fire. Albus moved closer, glancing at the empty potion bottles on the table beside Severus and understanding that the other was struggling with his addition to those substances that could relieve the constant pain of his existence. He moved into Severus' eye line, "I have been thinking, Severus."

Severus' eyes flickered to Albus', "Is that so?" His voice was neutral.

Albus stared at the pale skin and the gaunt cheeks and examined the black eyes that met his, seeing the untold story of Severus' suffering. He lowered himself to his knees before Severus, realizing that of all the sins he had committed in his life, this one was most likely the worst. Who was he to do this, to Severus? Who was he to command this of the man he had grown to care for, so very deeply? Who was he to ask him to give his blood and his mind and his life, for a cause Severus no longer cared for? "This will not make what you do any easier - what you do for me. But I need you to know that I am very grateful for everything that you do. I know that these are just words and you - the words will not make you feel any better. But you need to know the emotion behind them." He reached out and took Severus' limp fingers in his, wrapping his own around the calloused and rough skin. "I am here for you - I will never leave you - and no matter what I ask you to do, please understand that if I had a choice, I would keep you safe. I would protect you. I am doing so, by ensuring that you have value to Voldemort. But I am here. Always."

Severus continued to stare at him, looking for something, although Albus was not sure what. After a moment, he looked away. "Thank you." He murmured, and his fingers tightened in Albus'.

"We will find the way through this, Severus. Until then, I will be your support. I will be here for you, no matter what hour of the day, no matter what he does to you - come to me, and I will find a way to make things better - because I owe you that."

Severus shook his head, "You owe me nothing, Headmaster. I will find a way through this. You do not need to pretend that I mean something to you."

Albus straightened his back and reached out to stroke Severus' cheek with the back of his hand. "No, Severus. I owe you everything, and you mean everything to me." He paused. "I just needed someone to help me see that."


	2. Chapter 2

**SS19's Advent Calendar**

_Thank you everyone for the great reception - just to let you all know, **I am looking for prompts for scenes** - you can give me a word, a phrase, a set up - anything - and I'll do my best to write it on one of the days! I have about ten working ideas at the moment, so need fourteen more! The best ideas (and not necessarily the easiest) will become actual days in this wonderful cacophony of Albus and Severus amazingness. I look forward to what you can come up with, just bear one thing in mind - Albus and Severus. Enjoy ~ SS19_

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><p><strong>2<strong>**nd**** December - Repairing that which is broken. **

_**After Severus has a small accident, it's up to Albus to try to fix things. ****Dedicated to KatieTravelsTardis and her prompt…**_

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><p>It was the explosion which made him quicken his stride. He hurtled along the dungeon corridor, well aware that something had happened - he could feel it in his very bones. He opened the door to the Potions' classroom without knocking and stepped over the threshold - into a cloud of bright blue smoke. His lungs filled and he coughed, cursing whatever had caused such an exhumation - wheezing as his lungs searched for oxygen. He raised his wand and waved it, dispersing the smoke and peering into the room. "Severus?"<p>

Harsh coughing greeted him and panic seized his chest - he crossed behind the bench and his eyes fell on Severus, lying on the flood with his robes covered in soot and liquids. He rolled onto his side, brushing his black hair away from his face and spitting onto the floor. Albus knelt beside him, carefully putting hands on his shoulders, "My boy? Are you…" He clenched his fingers when Severus continued to convulse, "Look at me. I need to check you are all right…."

Unfocused eyes looked up at his, "Just…fine…"

"Ah, well, sarcasm. That means you must be all right. Come on, sit up. Let me have a proper look at you." He helped Severus into a sitting position and glanced concernedly into his face when Severus leaned heavily against him with a grimace. "Any broken bones, Severus, my dear?"

Severus glared in his direction. "No. I heard something crack when I fell, though." Still he did not move from Albus' supporting arm, now wrapped around his ribcage. "Just a moment."

Albus shifted position slightly. "What happened?"

"I was….experimenting." Severus responded, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and looking up at his now smouldering lump of melted cauldron. "It didn't go to plan - but I did discover a rather explosive new weapon."

"Severus!" Albus admonished, "You could have been killed! Or perhaps seriously injured! Please do not be so foolish in future."

Severus was generous enough to temper his glare this time and simply tamed it into a more acceptable raise of an eyebrow, "Albus. I have been brewing for nearly fifteen years. I really do not need to be careful. I am unlikely to hurt myself seriously."

Albus looked up and down Severus' blackened, trembling figure. "Indeed. What did you hear crack? Does it hurt if I do this…" He tightened his arms into a hug - Severus stiffened and drew away. "No." He answered, and Albus smiled. "Excellent." He saw the twitching at the sides of Severus' mouth, "You seem fine to me." He started to gather himself together and stood up, leaving Severus seated on the floor, examining the bench. Albus glanced around the classroom, "I will ask Argus to help you tidy up - I doubt even a cleaning spell will banish the smoke on the ceiling - " He was about to carry on examining the marks above him when he heard a terrible moan - "Severus?"

Severus had moved, crouched in the dust, turned away from Albus. Alarmed, Albus drew closer, "Severus?"

Severus drew back from the bench, holding something in his hand. Albus stared at it, "Is that your wand?"

"No - it's clearly a lemon monkey probe!" Severus spat back in return, furious now, "What does it look like? Of course it's my wand! It's my wand - " His voice softened, "In two pieces." He opened his palm and Albus stared at the pieces of black ash, stark against the paleness of Severus' skin. "Oh, Severus." He reached out and took the pieces from Severus' limp fingers. "You must have fallen on it." He knew that Severus was upset when the other did not even retort, just continued to stare at the broken wand. "My…my wand…"

Albus couldn't stand the sadness in Severus' voice, "Severus - it might be - fixable -"

Severus shook his head, "You know wand lore, Albus. You know that wands cannot be easily repaired." He glanced away. "I doubt it can be fixed." He pulled himself to his feet. "I have had that since I was a child."

"Do you want it back?" Albus answered, offering the pieces to Severus. Severus shook his head. "No. No, thank you. I will go to Ollivander's and buy a new one. It's just a wand." He brushed his robes down, "I need to go and clean myself up."

Albus nodded, clenching his fist around the broken wand. "Of course."

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><p>Albus was seated behind his desk in his office, contemplating the shattered pieces of wood lying on a piece of parchment before him. A book lay open beside the wand on a particular page. He tapped his finger against the words on the page, before looking back to the wand. Fawkes, his phoenix, hopped down from his perch onto the desk, watching Albus closely. Albus raised his head, "I am trying to decide how much Severus is worth to me."<p>

Fawkes cocked his head to one side and cawed softly. Albus half-smiled, "Well, you would say that. You like him. But is he worth…" He opened the bottom drawer in his desk and withdrew a small box. The box was carved from some valuable and ancient wood with a small rune engraved into the lid. Fawkes seemed to recognise the box too - "Yes, you would know this, Fawkes. So. Is he worth…this?" He undid the box with a wave of his hand and lifted the lid. Fawkes moved forward curiously and Albus held up a hand, "Careful." He reached into the box and pulled the object out, letting it rest in the palm of his hand. "This is the last one in existence - and its monetary worth is beyond anything else I own…perhaps even a cumulation of everything I own. You recognise it, of course, Fawkes? But you would. What do you think?"

Fawkes sung something gentle. Albus looked at him. "Fine. Of course, you are right. You are always right, Fawkes."

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><p>Severus snarled something obscene in the silence and collected himself. "Let's try again." He pointed the new wand at the desk and waved it sharply. The objects moved but the wand resisted him, arguing against his command, and Severus exhaled loudly, throwing it aside. He had tried to convince himself that his wand - his old wand - had been just a wand. But the wand was more than that, of course. It was a part of him and his history. That wand, with its black ash and its phoenix core and its several inches, had been with him through school, had brought him through his OWLs and his NEWTs and had committed heinous, grievous sins when Severus had been a Death-Eater. It had always been his wand, he would not let other touch it, he would not let others tamper with it - it was his most precious possession. It fitted into his hand perfectly, he liked the engraving on the handle, and the wand understood him. It was similar to him in character - it was something that had <em>chosen<em> him despite his faults and flaws. This new wand would never be the same. It was substandard, a replacement, a copy. He sighed again and went to pick it up from the floor. He sat behind his desk, head in his hands, wand before him. He didn't want this wand. He wanted his old wand.

"Headache, Severus?" The Headmaster had a habit of entering Severus' rooms whether he was invited or not. Severus raised his head, "No. I was mourning the loss of my wand."

Albus came closer, "You have a new one, I see?"

"It's yew. Dragon heart-string because he had none with a phoenix feather core. It's not the same. It's not my wand, with my inflections and my character. The phoenix feather was important to me. It understood me." He shook his head, "This one does not."

Albus had reached the desk by now. "Well then…it's a good thing I have this, for you." He pulled his hand from behind his back and held it out to Severus, fingers wrapped around a wand. Severus' wand. Severus sat straight in his chair, "That's not…"

Albus smiled, "Yes, it is."

Severus stood up, taking the wand from Albus and inspecting it. "That's not…not possible…"

Albus' smile became more pronounced, "No, it isn't. However. I am no ordinary wizard, and I do like to achieve the impossible."

Severus had fallen silent. He was staring at the wand in his hand. "I - I don't." He seemed unable to formulate the words into a sentence. Albus watched him carefully, almost bemused. Finally Severus looked up at him. "I don't understand."

Albus folded his arms into his robes. "Well, it's simple - I happen to know a spell which can, with a little bit of effort, repair wands. It's an old spell, but one that I find useful when one has - ah - accidents."

"The core - the phoenix feather core - I don't understand how you could have fixed that."

"Ah." Albus met Severus' gaze, "I might have had a spare, lying around my office."

Severus' head shot up. "I cannot accept this."

"Yes, you can."

Severus pushed the wand away, "No. I know the value of a phoenix feather - it's very valuable - you cannot give it to me."

Albus picked the wand up in his hand and crossed to Severus. He kept a grip on the wand, "Listen to me. I saw your face when you realised your wand was broken. I understand the importance of your wand - to you - and I wanted you to have it." He took Severus' hand in his, putting the wand into hiss palm and closing the fingers around the handle. "Take it. Take it, and let it protect you when you need it most."

"Thank you." Severus murmured, "You have no idea what it means."

"Yes, I do." Albus replied. He paused. "Severus. You are not going to cry, are you?"

Severus glared at him, "No." His glare faded into a small smile, clenching his hand.

Albus patted his arm. "Happy casting. And this time, Severus, please be more careful. I may be apt at putting wands back together, but I am not so sure about spines." He smiled and brushed his hand against Severus' cheek before turning away to leave.

"Thank you, Headmaster." Severus called after him.

Albus turned back for one final moment, "You're welcome, my boy. You are very welcome."


	3. Chapter 3

**SS19's Advent Calendar**

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><p><em><strong>3rd December: Indoor Activities: Severus and Albus had been planning an outing. Unfortunately, a Death-Eater meeting puts an end to that. Albus, therefore, tries to come up with some fun things to do indoors. Written for ChangelingbyChoice and their prompt, 'a traumatic meeting on a day that Albus and Severus had planned to go on an outing'. Enjoy, my dear, and thank you for the prompt!<strong>_

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><p>Damn Voldemort and his inconvenient timing, Albus mused as he returned the picnic basket to the wardrobe and waved his wand wearily to dispense the crockery into the correct drawers. He glanced at the clock, acknowledging that it had been at least an hour since Severus had felt the burring on his arm and had left Albus and their plans for that day. Albus was trying not to feel disappointed, because that was not fair on Severus, who had not been delighted to be summoned either, for various reasons. He and Severus did not have much time to themselves at the moment, after all. The boy was always busy, running around after his Dark master and brewing potions to make sure he did not feel the wrath of said Dark Lord for another night. Albus, on the other hand, was heavily involved with plotting and scheming and trying to find strategies to help defend the Wizarding World. Although he saw Severus at meal times when the boy remembered, they had not <em>talked <em>in such a long time, now. They had not sat together and enjoyed each others' company, and that was upsetting Severus as much as it was Albus. Albus had, in the end, demanded a day when Severus was free and after four gatherings this week, Severus had tentatively offered the weekend as a possible time. Albus had cancelled his meetings and appointments, blaming a case of the winter flu, and they had made plans to go to a chilly yet private beach on the South coast and enjoy a picnic. Which, was one of Albus' favourite things to do - although he was not sure about Severus, but the other seemed pleased enough to be invited. Perhaps he was missing Albus as much as Albus was missing Severus.

Plans, as Albus had often discovered, were often going to go awry - especially when Lord Voldemort was involved. He knew Severus would not wish to go out after a meeting and would most likely prefer to sleep, meaning that their time together had been sacrificed for another…week? Month? Albus could not have that, he wanted to speak to Severus, to find out what was going on in the other's head, where they could talk about things other than the war. He returned to his sitting room and lowered himself into the sofa, lighting the fire with a flick of his hand and Summoning the book from the mantlepiece. He opened it at the last page he had examined and sank into the words, waiting for the knock at the door that would signal the arrival of his friend.

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><p>"Albus? Albus." A hand touched his shoulder and he sprang awake, eyes flying open as he startled himself. He looked into Severus' concerned face, "Severus!"<p>

"I did not mean to startle you, Headmaster." Severus apologised, a frown crossing his forehead, "It is most unlike you to sleep during the day, Albus. Everything well?"

"Of course, my boy. I am sure I was simply too comfortable and enjoying the quiet. How are you? How was the gathering?" He asked, pulling himself into a more upright position and smiling at Severus. Severus shrugged, "It was a gathering. They are not pleasant, but this one was simply tiring. He asks too much of me." Severus sat beside Albus and rubbed his shoulder uncomfortably, "He is angry, Albus."

"At you?" Albus prompted, and Severus did not seem sure of the answer, "Us. All of us. It makes things dangerous. It makes him…volatile."

Albus narrowed his eyes, "Has he hurt you? He has harmed you, has he not? Where?"

"It is just my leg. As always. It is always my leg. Sometimes, I believe it would be more prudent to amputate it rather than allow him such…freedom." Severus was referring to his left leg, where the skin was crumpled and scarred and reddened from a past punishment exercise with Voldemort, many years ago. He hardly spoke of it, and many did not know the pain that the leg caused, but Voldemort was one of those few who could manipulate it to harm Severus _without_ harming his brewing ability. He was also, rightfully, self-conscious about his leg. Albus stood and picked up a box from his desk, opening the lid and withdrawing his medicine kit. "Let me see."

"I would rather you did not, Albus. I imagine it is not a pretty sight." Severus answered softly, but his voice held no conviction. Albus had moved to the footstool in front of the sofa so he was lower and on a similar level to Severus' leg. "Ah, Severus. Still, you find it difficult to lie to me. Let me lavish some attention on you for a change, and see if I can mend your leg. I can tell it is hurting you." He waited until Severus acquiesced and moved his leg slightly. Albus undid the laces of Severus' boot and carefully pulled the shoe away, surreptitiously wiping the blood on his robe so as to not unsettle Severus.

"I am sorry about our picnic. I was looking forward to it, too." Severus mumbled, and Albus waved a hand as he investigated the damage to Severus' leg, "Not your fault, Severus. It is not as bad as it feels, I do not think. This will sting - " He tipped the healing potion onto the salve and then pressed the cool material to Severus' injury. The other winced but Albus could tell the soothing was welcomed by Severus. "There, now, see. Just sometimes, it is nice to let someone else help you for a change, Severus." Severus made some sort of affirming noise in his throat before returning his attention to the present. "What shall we do, then?"

Albus was surprised, "You wish to stay? You normally wish to start brewing."

Severus nodded, "Indeed. But I promised you that we could spend the weekend together, and here I am - keeping that promise. You can find something indoors to entertain me before I fall asleep on your sofa. You must occupy yourself with something all day, after all."

Albus stood, cleaning his hands with his wand and propping Severus' leg up on the footstool. "Keep it like that for a few hours, it should help with the healing. As for indoor activities - I have several."

Severus held up one finger, "One that does not mean I have to think. I do not wish to think."

"I will be back in a moment." Albus swept into his bedroom and rustled around in his bedside cabinet for something. He returned and sat next to Severus, depositing his findings into Severus' lap. A distinctly tired Severus looked down at the items - "What is this?"

Albus picked up the balls of wool, "See. Knitting. I find it very relaxing - and once you start, there isn't much to it. You can sit and contemplate the world and the universe. All you need are these knitting needles. Here, let me show you." He pushed the needles into Severus' hands and watched as Severus contemplated a reply, "Headmaster. I am not sitting here knitting. I am sorry but - "

"Ah, but Severus, you have to understand - the feeling of achievement when you manage to knit a scarf, or a hat or a - that is cheating, my boy." Severus had pulled his wand from his pocket and conjured a scarf, full length and soft, from the wool in front of him. Albus glared at him, which made Severus smile and half laugh, "Sorry, Headmaster. I do not have the patience for knitting." He cautiously lifted the scarf and, in a rare show of affection, wrapped it around Albus' neck, "There. The colour suits you."

"Fine." Albus said, only half mock-sulking, "I shall find something else for you to do then. I assume colouring in is far too dumb an activity for you too?"

Severus laughed at this, "No - I'm a perfectionist, colouring in and I certainly do not mix. It would have to be completely perfect and I do not have the coordination for that."

Albus thought for a moment, "Sewing."

"Do you have any male habits, Albus?"

Albus narrowed his eyes at Severus. "Yes."

A raised eyebrow from Severus, "Such as?"

"Ah - jam making." Albus responded quickly, his dissatisfaction fading when Severus laughed delightedly at this comment. "This is such excellent blackmail material, Headmaster. You must have another hobby, surely?"

Albus considered Severus. "Well, there is one that no one else knows about."

Intrigued, Severus leaned forward. "What?" He held up a hand, "No, wait, don't tell me. Collecting stickers."

Albus playfully hit Severus' upper arm, "How did you guess?" He joked, "No, no, this is something else. You will have to make a small trip with me though, if you are intrigued."

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><p>He helped Severus to sit down, checking the other was comfortable amongst the fabric and the blanket that Albus had brought with him. His personal tower was, after all, chilly. Severus was curious, but this had helped him to forget about the pain in his leg. He turned his back to Severus and pulled the covering off the only other item atop the tower. Severus was surprised - "You play piano?"<p>

"'Play' is such a generic term, Severus. I am what some might call - a maestro." He pulled the bench out from under the sofa and contemplated the keys. Severus did not seem convinced, "You do not play."

Albus glanced at him, "What do you expect me to do? Wave my wand and let the keys play themselves? Not me, Severus. Do you have a favourite piece?"

Severus answered, "Yes. Gymnopedie, Number One."

"Sit back and close your eyes." Albus instructed, waiting until Severus had done so. He knew the piece of music well, falling into the slow and gentle rhythm of the keys as he started to play. The piece was haunting and tender - a little mysterious too, and one that he certainly associated with Severus. He expected Severus to interject with yet another sarcastic comment, but he didn't. He continued the song, reaching around the halfway point when Severus came to sit next to him. "You're not playing it quite right."

Albus stopped and glanced at Severus. "I beg your pardon?"

"See, it's meant to be softer - the chords - you are not playing them right." Severus demonstrated the first few chords of the piece, and Albus watched him bemusedly. "You are not about to tell me, after all this time, Severus, that you play piano?"

"Ah, Headmaster. I think you will find I am what they call a maestro." Severus responded with a small smile.

"Well then, why are you making me do all the work?"

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><p>In the end, Albus considered, it had not been quite the day he was expecting. They had not been out - but after four hours of piano playing and talking on his tower, he realised that perhaps this had been more preferable. In the end, his talking had exhausted Severus and he had dozed off. Albus had carefully taken him back to the sofa and tucked him up under the blankets, now watching him from the doorway. In his ten years of being close friends with Severus, he had never known that the other had played the piano, or known so much classical music, or had such an opinion about various composers. It was something he had never associated with Severus - and he wondered what else there was to discover. He wished that they had a lifetime to find out, but both were living on borrowed time. The only thing he could do, therefore, was cling to the moments such as these - such as today - and hold onto them. He left Severus to dream, and retired to bed himself. Lying awake, he could still hear Severus' censures of his playing and his humming of the notes as he played the chords to support Albus. One day, they would both find the peace they deserved.<p>

That was a promise.

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><p><strong><em>Still accepting prompts! Go on, hit me with your best shot!<em>**


	4. Chapter 4

**SS19's Advent Calendar**

**__**_I will just say that these stories are meant to be light-hearted and cheerful - don't get me wrong, I love angst, but it's all I seem to write and I find it rather tiring some times! I'll keep the angst to my longer stories, and this one can be cheerful. Yay for cheerfulness! Also - skypeeper - GET OUT OF HERE WITH YOUR ALBUS HATING...I will have to write other fics to keep you entertained my love! :) ~ SS19 _

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><p><strong>4th December: Gingerbread Houses<strong>

**_A little Christmas fun in Albus' cottage. Dedicated to SpencerReid and YenGirl; you gave me very similar prompts, so here is my offering! I hope you enjoy!_**

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><p>Severus opened his eyes a crack and winced when bright light streamed through the gap and burned his brain. He moaned and turned onto his side, away from the light, wondering what on earth was happening -<p>

"Severus! Rise and shine!"

His question was answered by the singsong voice that penetrated the haze around him. "Go away." He managed, "I am trying to sleep."

"But Severus, it is half past ten on this wonderful wintry morning. I also baked some biscuits for you - gingerbread - you like gingerbread, remember?" Weight next to him suggested Albus had sat beside him on the bed, and this meant he was not planning on leaving Severus alone any time soon. Surrendering, Severus turned his face back to Albus and opened his eyes. "Why can you not just let a man sleep?"

Albus seemed to not have an answer to this question. "You cannot sleep in all morning, Severus - that is not good for you." There was a rather bemused smile playing on Albus' lips which alarmed Severus, "What in Merlin's name are you grinning at?"

"My, my, we are miserable in the mornings, are we not?" Albus teased affectionately, "Feeling a little under the weather, are we, my boy?"

Severus glared at Albus, "If you would like to make yourself useful, you could find me a hangover remedy."

Albus laughed, "No, for I am sadistic and I prefer to see you suffer. If you sit up, you can have one of my biscuits and that should make you feel better." He lingered for a moment at the end of the last sentence, "I also, greatly admire your pyjamas…"

Severus looked down at his arms and flinched, "What the hell -" His head shot up, "Why am I wearing your pyjamas?"

Albus had suddenly become very interested in something happening outside the window, twiddling his thumbs together in his lap. Severus seemed horrified by the blue material with golden snitches, "Albus." Now fully awake, he took in his surroundings - for a start, the bed was larger than his usual single, and the bedspread was far too colourful for him to have chosen, and he didn't quite remember the portraits opposite him - he blinked and sat up, despite the dizziness. "What happened last night?"

"I thought you would never ask." Albus joked, "You had a little too much Firewhiskey."

"I can tell _that_ thank you." Severus shot back in return, "What were we doing?"

Albus leaned forward, "Well." He murmured in a conspiratorial tone, eyes latching onto Severus'. He could sense alarm in the younger man and that made him smile. "We were playing chess and I - " Dramatic pause, "Beat you."

"You did not." Severus argued.

"I did. Twice." Albus smiled and patted Severus' arm, "I know, it's terrible, isn't it? You really are losing your edge. So, you, in a normal melodramatic way, had two beakers of Firewhiskey to console yourself. Ten minutes later, you were fast asleep. So I put you here because it is the closest bedroom to the study." Albus explained, and Severus nodded slowly, processing this information. "And - ah - where did you sleep?"

Albus seemed surprised by this question, "Well, next to you of course…" It was the horrified expression on Severus' face that threatened to send Albus into hysterics and he shook his head, unable to keep himself together, "That was a joke, Severus dear. I used the guest bedroom. Your face - oh dear, I should not do that sort of thing to you." He was being rewarded with a rather dark glare and Albus suspected Severus was plotting wicked revenge for his comments. He smiled to diffuse the anger and after a moment, Severus reciprocated the expression. "One day, Headmaster, you will be the death of me." Severus responded, closing his eyes and resting his head back against the headboard. Albus watched him for a moment, "Are you sure you wish to stay the rest of the holiday with me?"

One eye looked at Albus, "Yes, thank you, despite your terrible sense of humour. You know I like this cottage."

"And?" Albus prompted.

"The herb garden - I swear, considering you detest gardening, you have managed to encourage some rather rare herbs to grow here."

"Is that all?" Albus asked softly.

"No." Severus met Albus' gaze, "I also like the extensive library which dwarfs mine." His expression was almost affectionate, "I like the company most of all."

"Excellent. Here, have a biscuit." Albus offered the plate to Severus. Severus, feeling hungry, looked at the plate with an air of concern. "…What…exactly, was this meant to be?"

Albus looked at it, "Well, it was meant to be a snowman…" He trailed off as Severus picked up the twisted, misshapen ball of cooked gingerbread dough and raised one eyebrow at him. "I am sure it still tastes fantastic."

Looking skeptically at Albus, Severus bit into the biscuit and chewed cautiously. Albus watched him for a moment before standing up to check the radiator, "It is cold in here."

Severus continued to chew slowly, a frown crossing his forehead. "What is in this?" He asked, syllables slightly blurred due to the fact his mouth was full. Albus glanced at him while examining the radiator, "The usual - I used a recipe. Why? Is it possibly the most delectable thing you have ever tasted?"

Severus nodded, "It's - interesting, certainly…" A long pause, before Severus shook his head and pulled the napkin from the plate and spat the gingerbread out, "I'm sorry, Albus, but that is revolting." He conjured a glass of water and swallowed several large mouthfuls before looking at Albus, "How much sugar did you use?"

"Four cups, as the recipe said." Albus answered, hurt at Severus' reaction. "A little too much?"

"How big were the cups?" Severus demanded, pushing the plate away. "Albus, can you actually cook?"

"Well - I can follow instructions - or at least, I thought I could." He looked rather put out. "I wanted to build a gingerbread house, too."

Severus watched him and then groaned, "Fine. Give me a few minutes to get dressed and then I will help you."

Albus straightened, "You know how to make a gingerbread house?" He seemed delighted by this when Severus nodded. "Excellent. I must say, I do like this Severus - you are much more agreeable than you normally are."

Severus swung his legs over the edge of the bed and glanced at Albus, "I am not at Hogwarts, the Dark Lord promised me a two week break, I do not need to sit next to Sirius Black for three weeks and - finally - I no longer have to stare at Potter every day." He stood, "Thus, I have enough time to show you how to properly construct a gingerbread house."

"Those pyjamas really are quite adorable, Severus." Albus complimented, and Severus folded his arms over his chest, "Simply _darling_, aren't they?"

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><p>Ten minutes later, Albus and Severus were stood in the kitchen of Albus' seaside cottage, lights bright despite the curtains being open. Albus' seaside retreat was a second home for the older wizard and his guests - which most often included Severus. Albus had made sure Severus knew he was always welcome in the small cottage - and during the holidays, they had often stayed together so Severus could collect herbs from the woods and enjoy the sea air. At Christmas, the cottage was decorated with various trinkets and other such things, a large tree dominated the living room covered in flickering candles, and fairy lights adorned nearly every surface. Albus called it home, and he had heard Severus use the same noun once - although at the current moment, Severus was rifling through one of the cupboards looking for something while Albus was contemplating the recipe book he had consulted earlier that day. "See here, Severus. Cups."<p>

"Yes, Albus, cups. Not - as you thought - goblets. They are not the same thing in brewing or in cooking." Severus' voice was muffled by the cupboard as he withdrew with a glass mixing bowl in hand. "Here. Watch and learn, Albus."

"Just because you are a brewer, does not mean you can cook."

"Oh, please, Albus. The two skills go hand in hand. Where is the recipe you were using?" He looked through the instructions, pressing the page down with the palm of his hand. "First - do you have some scales?"

Albus considered for a moment, "No, why would I need scales?"

Severus stared at him. "You plan to cook with no scales?" He shook his head, "No. Not possible. We'll use mine." He disappeared from the room and left Albus to pick up a pencil and his parchment and sketch what he wanted the house to look like. He was so absorbed in this drawing that he did not see Severus come back and look over his shoulder. "Somehow I doubt we will be recreating Hogwarts castle Albus."

"You never know, Severus. How can I help?" There was some childlike excitement in his voice, which made Severus smile as he placed his scales on the table. "We'll use actual measurements this time, Albus. There - use my scales and measure those out." He gestured to the recipe while putting the saucepan on the stove and melting butter on the low heat. He kept one eye on Albus and his measuring, slightly alarmed at how careless Albus was - "It says two hundred grams - not two hundred and thirteen…"

Albus turned and faced Severus, "I doubt thirteen grams will make much difference, Severus…"

"Much difference? If everybody said that when making potions, everything would be too sweet and there would be many more accidents!" Severus exclaimed.

Albus folded his arms, "If you weren't such a damned perfectionist - we are not making a dangerous potion, we are making a cake."

Severus narrowed his eyes, "If you don't want my help…"

"I'd like your help if you can put your scholarly side away and just enjoy the relaxed atmosphere here…" Albus finished, and Severus turned away to stir his butter. There was an awkward pause before Albus came to stand by Severus' shoulder and examine his melting butter. "You're stirring it the wrong direction."

Severus turned to glare at Albus and Albus dabbed the tip of his nose with flour with a playful grin. The ice was gone and Severus rubbed his nose with his sleeve, "You can be chief architect, Albus."

"This pleases me - what's next?"

"Icing." Severus responded, "We put the walls and the roof in the oven, and then you seal the walls with icing."

"Cement, Severus. Cement. I would not try building a house with icing, I doubt it would be very weatherproof…"

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><p>The hours passed and the colour drained from the sky leaving inky black behind.<p>

"Well." Severus broke the silence. "I suppose it does look like a house." He straightened his head back to it usual vertical position, "From a particular angle, of course." They were examining the crumpled house on the plate before them. Albus seemed rather desolate, "I do not understand what happened. It was a sturdy enough structure and we made sure the architecture did not weigh down the walls. Then the roof collapsed, and that was the end."

Severus crossed to kneel beside Albus, "I think they all escaped safely." He said seriously, and this made Albus laugh. "Would you like to say a few words, Albus?" He patted Albus' hand and passed him a piece of the gingerbread. "At least it's edible this time." They were both quiet for a moment as they tucked into the house and the icing.

Albus watched Severus for a long moment and then started to laugh again. Severus glanced at him, bemused. "Severus, you are covered in flour and icing sugar."

Severus seemed amused by this, "I cannot tell with you - your beard is so white - "

Albus reached over and pulled a piece of cake from Severus' collar. "Such a respectful tone. Well, this was certainly more fun than staying in bed all day."

"I concur." Severus murmured. "It's nice cake."

"Very nice cake, Severus." Albus paused, "Now. How about a game of chess?"

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><p><strong><em>Still accepting prompts! <em>**


	5. Chapter 5

**SS19's Advent Calendar**

_A slight change in theme here - so far, I have focused very much on Severus being harmed and Albus being protective - so this week there will be a reverse of this situation. I am still taking everyone's prompts into account! This one is dedicated to blossoming-art because I finally made it into their favourite authors list - which I feel is an achievement! It is inspired by an interesting piece of dialogue in 'The Goblet of Fire' which has often played on my mind._

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><p><strong>4<strong>**th**** December: Idle Words**

Severus slammed the Daily Prophet down onto the table, glared at it, scraped his chair back and stood abruptly. He turned on his heel and left the Great Hall, leaving several stunned colleagues staring after him in his wake. Albus raised his eyes from his porridge and glanced after him, concern flittering across his face. Minerva leaned forward, "Is he quite all right?"

Albus shrugged, "I genuinely do not know - he has been acting very strangely recently. He has a rather short fuse and seems to be angry - all of the time." He raised an eyebrow at Minerva, "I know what you are thinking - but Severus broods. He does not rage. This is Severus raging, and he is clearly angry at something." Albus gestured to the Daily Prophet, "I imagine it is something to do with the constant denial of Voldemort in the Daily Prophet. He is unhappy with the stupidity being exhibited by both the Ministry and its favourite publication."

Minerva continued to watch him. "Are you sure that's the reason?"

"What other reason could it possibly be, Minerva?" Albus asked, and his expression demonstrated that he really was confused. Minerva simply smiled to herself and looked away toward Poppy Pomfrey, the only other person who knew the true reason for Severus' uncharacteristic temper. On leaving the table, Poppy murmured into Minerva's ear, "Two Galleons on Severus and Dolores coming to blows."

Minerva glanced at her, "It will be a battle of words - verbal abuse - and my money is on Severus winning."

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><p>It was in the staffroom, four hours later. Lunch time was just beginning, and the small room was crowded with teachers talking, reading or - in the case of Severus - stewing. The door opened and Dolores Umbridge swept into the room, clearing her throat loudly. Minerva crossed to Poppy and placed a hand on her shoulder, eyes flickering to Severus in the corner of the room. The Potions Master had sat straighter in his chair, eyes slightly narrowed. If looks could kill -<p>

"It's a shame that such a well-meaning and honourable establishment could become so…" Dolores began, seeming to struggle for a word, speaking to those who would listen. "Disappointing. The Minister is incredibly unhappy with the management of this school, and by rights, the Headmaster. As High Inquisitor, it is my duty to our children to find the weaknesses and weed them out."

Minerva was angry too, and she knew such emotions were reflected in her colleagues surrounding her. But they were not yet ready to voice their concerns. Or at least - most of them weren't.

"Perhaps the Minister believes he could do a better job himself?" The voice was low and dangerous in tone.

Dolores turned to face Severus, "I beg your pardon?"

Severus raised an eyebrow, "I was enquiring whether the Minister believes he could do a better and more successful job of leading Hogwarts and caring for its students." His voice remained soft, but his eyes were glinting with unrestrained malevolence. Silence had fallen in the staffroom as Dolores stared at Severus, as if attempting to understand the motives of this conversation. "The Ministry is highly concerned."

Severus stood, gathering his robes around him and tucking his hands into his sleeves. "Albus Dumbledore is a revered and respected Headmaster, named as one of the greatest in the history of the school. The results from the students are excellent, and he has created a very protective and constructive atmosphere."

"Your loyalty to Dumbledore is very impressive, Professor Snape." Dolores considered him, "I understand the reason for it, of course."

Severus stiffened, "What is that comment supposed to imply?"

"Well. You have a chequered past, Professor Snape. Dumbledore has a habit for taking in - ah - strays." Dolores smiled sweetly at Severus - Poppy rested a hand on Minerva's arm when it was clear the Head of Gryffindor House was incensed by the comments offered to her Slytherin counterpart. Severus hardly stirred, "I would prefer to stand beside Albus Dumbledore than the Minister."

Dolores took a step forward, "Do you realise that, with one word, I could have you thrown in Azkaban?"

"You are not the Minster, and you are not Headmistress of this school - nor shall you be." Severus was positively trembling now, "Speak badly of Albus Dumbledore, and I will warn you now that you will never be safe in this school."

"Are you threatening me, Professor Snape?"

Severus smiled. "No. I am simply advising you, that you should consider your actions. Albus Dumbledore is one of the greatest wizards of his generation - if not the greatest - you and your Daily Prophet may choose to defile his name, and deny the truth about the Dark Lord - but it will come to nothing." He raised one hand, "A polite warning. I bid you good day, High Inquisitor." With that, Severus swept from the room, door closing behind him, to the shocked silence of the remaining teachers.

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><p>"Severus…" Albus greeted Severus from the door of his office. "I have just received a rather interesting letter."<p>

Severus, buried in a book, raised his head, "Indeed?"

"Yes. It is from the Minister, advising that I should turn you over to Ministry authorities for your immediate detainment in Azkaban." Albus took a step forward, "Would you care to enlighten me?"

Severus glanced at him, "I would have no idea, Headmaster. I am sure the reason is in the letter."

Albus smiled and lowered the parchment behind him, "Severus, I know what happened in the staffroom earlier. I have heard from several colleagues about what you said to Dolores." He hesitated, "Severus. I did warn you not to upset Dolores because of your sensitive position, both in the Ministry's records and in public opinion. She may not be the Minister but she has considerable sway within the Ministry." He watched Severus. "As do I, still. I have spoken to Cornelius and assured him that he needs you here. You will be asked to apologise for what you said…'

Severus jumped to his feet, "Why? Have you heard the way she speaks about you? The Daily Prophet constantly insulting your name - they have no idea -"

Albus crossed to him, "Severus. I do not care what the Ministry thinks about me, or what they write in their publication. All that matters to me is the opinions of the people I truly care about - you." He touched Severus' shoulder, "I have heard what you said - greatest wizard of his generation? - I have never been so honoured as to receive that title from you. Thank you for defending me, my boy. But you do not have to protect me."

"You are in danger, too, Headmaster. You perhaps more than I. Allow me the courtesy of trying to protect you."

Albus was clearly touched by this soft words, "Then perhaps we can agree to protect each other - from whatever evil threatens?"

Severus smiled too, "I'd like that."


	6. Chapter 6

**SS19's Advent Calendar**

_The prompt for the last chapter was when Harry is named as a Champion and Fudge blames Dumbledore. Severus steps in to say; 'Don't blame Dumbledore" which leads to a short moment between them where Albus successfully quiets Severus. The other bit I like in that book is, "Dumbledore happens to trust me. I cannot believe he gave you permission to search my rooms" or something along those lines - no matter what the impostor Moody says, Dumbledore is right about Severus and he certainly trusts him! I also do not, unfortunately, write in many other genres other than Severus and Albus - they are my favourites and I have spent so many hours getting to know them that I could practically write a book about them._

_Oh wait…_

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><p><strong>6<strong>**th**** December: You Needed Me**

"You need to come quickly." Minerva said to Severus as they moved along the first floor corridor at a rapid pace, Severus slightly ahead but listening to her every word. "When did you find him?"

"It cannot be more than ten minutes ago - he said he was feeling ill during dinner, and then I went to check on him and found him practically unconscious - he wouldn't see Poppy, he asked only for you." Minerva's face was drawn into a worried and frightened expression, "Is it his hand?"

"I cannot tell until I have seen him." Severus responded bluntly, eyes slightly narrowed, "I should have been at dinner - precious minutes - he should have come straight to me…" They rounded the corner, knocking some unwitting first year students out of the way in their haste. Severus was already opening his journal and scouring the parchment pages, looking for details about a curse he had researched for several weeks in the library, the Headmaster's office, the Dark Lord's library, Knockturn Alley, anywhere that could help him find a cure…He barked the password at the gargoyles and they stepped aside immediately, sweeping up the spiral staircase and into the office that belonged to Albus Dumbledore.

"I put him in the bedroom, Severus - " Minerva broke off when they both heard a strangled cry of pain from the adjoining room. Severus stopped only to pull the case of phials from the cabinet by the door, before entering Albus' bedroom. The older wizard was collapsed on his four posted bed, curled up in agony, sweat staining his forehead and his cursed hand clutched tight to his chest. He heard the movement and uttered Severus' name in a pleading tone - Severus was beside him in a moment. "Headmaster. It's me - what happened?"

Albus didn't answer - he seemed only half conscious and this worried Severus, "No. Albus, you need to tell me what happened otherwise I will not be able to help you - is it your hand?"

Albus could hear the urgency in Severus' voice and managed to nod, and Severus glanced toward Minerva. "Leave me."

Minerva was watching from the door and Severus saw her hesitate. "He is in the safest hands here, Minerva - please, let me work." His gaze was meaningful - Minerva wondered if he truly knew a way to help Albus - but she nodded and pulled the door closed. Severus reached out and leaned forward toward Albus, "Headmaster. Give me your hand. Let me see."

Albus moaned in pain and his eyes fluttered. Severus pressed a hand to his forehead and could feel fever burning beneath the crinkled skin. Panic was beginning to set in - they could not lose the Headmaster - not yet. "Albus. Let me see your hand." He gripped Albus' fingers with his own and uncurled the fist to examine the blackened and festering skin - "This is rapidly developing -" He rolled back Albus' sleeve and winced at the amount of black, "Headmaster. I am going to put a salve on your hand - you need to bear the pain - I will find a way to solve this."

"…Severus…leave it…" Albus managed to gasp and Severus stiffened as if in mock-shock, "As if, Headmaster. Should our positions be reversed you would not leave me alone - so I will certainly not leave you alone. I have some healing potions here - all you need to do is hang on." He was more concerned now about the pain becoming to great and Albus' heart giving out - the Headmaster was not a young wizard after all and Severus could tell that the dark curse was causing unimaginable pain. He tipped one of the potions onto a piece of cloth torn from his robe and wrapped it carefully around Albus' hand, "You need something for the pain." He uncorked a second phial, examined the silvery-blue liquid and brushed a hand against Albus' temple, "Careful now - you need to swallow it in one go. It tastes revolting, but it's the best I can do - it will lessen the pain." He tipped the phial over Albus' mouth, "Or knock you out…" He murmured as an afterthought as almost instantly, the potion took effect. Albus, exhausted from his fight against the curse in his hand, succumbed almost instantly and drifted away into darkness, leaving Severus sat beside him. He drew his wand and muttered what was not a counter curse - there would never be a counter curse - but there was something that could contain it, for a little while longer. Kneeling on the bed by Albus' side, Severus was struck with a sudden pain himself - something mental and emotional - the very idea of Albus Dumbledore's mortality and the fact that this would be his final year. It was something he had not allowed himself to consider, knowing that Dumbledore would meet his end by Severus' very hand before the academic year finished, for thinking about such a thing threatened to undo him. Overcome and overwhelmed with an impulse that was half of his own thinking and half not, he took Albus' dying hand in his and interlinked the fingers, staring at the blackened skin and feeling tears sting his eyes. "If I could do something, Albus. If I could lay down my life to save yours, I would do it." He hesitated before continuing, "Without pausing to even consider. I would do it."

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><p>It was the headache that woke him. He stirred and opened his eyes slowly, considering his surroundings before turning his head to one side and attempting to fight nausea. He swallowed and his throat hurt. It was then that he was aware that he wasn't alone - and as his focus returned, he realised that his companion happened to be Severus, who was half collapsed on the floor and half on the bed, fast asleep. His head was resting on his arms, a still damp cloth clutched in his fingers and several empty vials on the chest beside the bed. Albus allowed himself the smallest of smiles at the rare image of Severus asleep, and then started to recall exactly what events had led to him being in bed in terrible pain. He brushed his blackened fingers, wrapped in a bandage, against Severus' forehead and the other sprang awake with a start. Instantly his eyes fell on Albus and Albus was treated to the shadows that underlined the black irises and the paleness of his cheeks. "Headmaster - how are you feeling?" Severus said quickly, checking the Headmaster's temperature and inspecting his handiwork. Albus swallowed again to wet his dry throat before managing to whisper, "Better - thank you - Severus."<p>

Severus smiled and picked up a glass, crossing to the bathroom to pour water into the receptacle and returning to sit beside Albus. "Here, drink this slowly. You will need to stay in bed the rest of the day - the potions I used will have weakened you."

Albus contemplated Severus as he sipped the water. "You stayed the whole night?"

Severus hesitated. "Two days, one night. You have been unconscious for rather a while. I was starting to worry." Severus' tone belied that he had been in fact very worried.

"You should not have stayed." Albus replied gently. "You are far too protective of me, Severus, my dear boy."

Severus busied himself with Albus' hand, "You could not be left alone, you would not have made it - your hand needed constant attention and I couldn't have - I didn't - " He broke off and started undoing the bandage. Albus watched him for a moment, "Couldn't what?"

Severus shook his head, "It's nothing."

Albus leaned forward, putting the glass of water down and looking up into Severus' eyes, "You can tell me anything, Severus."

"I did not want to leave you." Severus said in a rush so the words were blurred and the syllables ran into each other. "You needed me. For once, you needed me." He tightened a new salve and pulled away from Albus. "I shall fetch you something to eat."

As he was leaving, Albus murmured softly behind, "I need you more than you can possibly imagine, Severus. All of the time." He was not sure if Severus heard because the younger man continued down out into the adjoining office, and in a way he was glad because his voice trembled with terrible emotion and he could feel something foreign in his eyes. "I need you more than you need me."


	7. Chapter 7

**SS19's Advent Calendar**

_Something very exciting happened to me today. I had my work _illustrated_ by the wonderful _verunder_ and let me just say what an honour this is - someone actually _drew_ something from my stories! I did a little happy dance, in fact. So THANK YOU so much verunder, you made my week with that amazing gift! Thank you so much! ~ SS19_

_Post-edit - also, big hugs to YenGirl for correcting this tired author's spelling mistakes - some slip through SS19's net..._

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><p><strong>December 7<strong>**th****: Welcome Home. After the Order of the Phoenix, Albus returns to Hogwarts.**

Albus exhaled slowly in relief as he entered the halls of Hogwarts School and heard the doors close behind him. It was foolish, but a part of him had believed that he would never return to Hogwarts again - although he wished it had been under better circumstances. Lord Voldemort had, certainly, returned now - he had duelled with Albus and Albus had been surprised at both Voldemort's strength and his own weakness - yes, he had successfully deflected Tom and his attacks but it had been close and he was incredibly tired, even now. Things were becoming much more dangerous and things were progressing much faster than he had expected. He had not truly anticipated Voldemort remaining silent and laying low, of course - but he wished too that it had not come to this quite so quickly, because his armies were already demoralised fearing a war like that of days gone past. He did not want to have to persuade them to fight once more. He mounted the marble staircase, still deep in thought. The Ministry of Magic was practically in ruin, too. This concerned Albus more than Voldemort and his return. If they did not have any protection, any command, any order, then Tom would not have to cause any harm himself. He could simply watch the Wizarding World turn to ruin around him, and sweep the pieces up into his withering hands. He shook his head, clearing his throat, and heading toward the door at the end of the corridor. The staffroom. He knew that members of his teaching faculty were waiting to see him - and although he did wish to run to his office and hide as he considered his own mortality, he knew he owed it to them to pay a visit. They had been through so much with the Ministry's involvement, after all. He opened the door and stepped inside - and was instantly treated to a silence that was not natural as many pairs of eyes looked at him. He was not quite sure what to say, and he almost felt awkward. But he simply smiled and bowed genially to his colleagues, "Good day to you all."

There were smile at this and then applause and some cheering from the less tense teachers - but they were all united in their sense of relief and pleasure to see their Headmaster and more importantly, their friend, back amongst them. Albus accepted their compliments and well wishes and raised one hand for quiet. "I must thank you all - I know that this year has certainly tested all of us, not to mention our patience - but understand that it was necessary and now, more than ever, the Ministry understand the seriousness of the situation which faces us." Albus considered them all, "They shall not be interfering at Hogwarts again." He paused, "You have my heart felt gratitude for how you have dealt with the consequences and have continued to guide our students."

Minerva stood, "We are very pleased to see you back, Albus. Hogwarts has its Headmaster again." Her smile and words were heartfelt and meaningful and he smiled at her. "Thank you, my dear. Now - you must excuse me - I believe I have a pile of paperwork to catch up on in my office. Please attend to your duties as normal. Let me reassure you of something, as I see the clouds behind your expressions - Lord Voldemort may be active once more, but that certainly does not make him a victor. We shall defeat him, as we have in the past, along as we cling to each other and do not allow any of us to fall behind." He watched to see their nods before leaving them to discuss his own prophecy as he wandered along the corridor and headed toward the second floor. They would defeat Lord Voldemort. He would make sure of that, no matter what the cost, no matter what sacrifice he had to make.

Speaking of sacrifice…

"I've been expecting you." A dark voice murmured from behind one of the suits of armour guarding the corridor. Albus half smiled before turning, "Not in the briefing, Severus?"

A shadowy and mostly obscured Severus was leaning against the suit of armour, arms folded across his chest and into his opposite sleeves. He raised an eyebrow, "You know what I think of those meetings, Headmaster." Severus seemed tired, and Albus knew the reason why. He did not wish to ask, but could not avoid the details for much longer. "How was he?"

Severus did not respond immediately. "How do you think he was, Headmaster?"

Albus hated this game, hated Severus' tone and most of all hated the situation which meant he had to place Severus at the mercy of Lord Voldemort, "I can imagine he was not pleased with the turn of events, Severus."

Severus stepped out into the chandelier light of the corridor and Albus withdrew slightly, staring at the damage to Severus' hand and face. He wanted to cross to him but knew he was not welcome, "What did he do?"

"This," Severus gestured to himself, "Is light. There are others who did not survive the night." Severus glanced down the corridor, "The students believe I am away on business. I spent the night in the company of Poppy in the Hospital Wing. She is more of a fusser than you." He paused. "Lucius is in Azkaban."

Albus nodded, "I expected as such - how do you feel about this?"

"I am out of favour with the Dark Lord. This concerns me more." He evaded Albus' question and Albus knew not to push. "You will regain that favour, I know, Severus. Would you like to come in for tea?"

"No. I have things I must do in my office. I just came to say -" Severus took another step forward which was almost tentative. A long pause. "It is good to see you back in Hogwarts."

Albus smiled, "It is very good to be back, my child."

Severus nodded, rubbing his good arm uncomfortably. "Yes. The school - ah - missed you." He looked as if he was about to bow, thought better of it or remembered who he was speaking to, turned on his heel and started to walk away. Albus watched him, before raising his voice. "I missed you too, Severus."

Severus stopped in the corridor, and turned back to face Albus. "Don't do that again - this school needs you - do not abandon it in its time of need."

Albus was tempted to say something about not having a choice in the matter but the intensity of Severus' expression made him think otherwise. He drew a little closer to Severus, "I won't."

Severus scrutinised him for a long moment, before roughly nodding. "That's good, then. I need to go."

Albus waited until Severus had practically disappeared from sight before calling after him, "I'll never abandon you, Severus." He knew his voice was loud enough for Severus to hear when the receding footsteps hesitated, just once.


	8. Chapter 8

**SS19's Advent Calendar**

_Your author is stressed and tired and has a sore throat which generally means illness will strike (everyone run!). A sweet one for today, prompts will return tomorrow when I have more time to do them justice! ~ SS19_

___**8th December: An insight into their relationship from another character.**_

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><p>"Headmaster." The Bloody Baron was hovering in the second floor corridor, waiting patiently for the Headmaster to reach him. Albus smiled at him, "Baron. I trust you have been successful."<p>

"Indeed. He is in the library." The Baron responded, respect colouring his tone as he faced the master of Hogwarts and a generally well-favoured acquaintance. "It would seem to me that he has been studying." The Baron glistened slightly in the flickering candlelight, "You should see to him."

Albus nodded his head just once, accepting and recognising the concern exhibited by the Slytherin ghost. "I understand, Baron. Would you do me the honour of accompanying me? I may have one small favour left to ask of you tonight." He allowed the Baron to hover beside him as he walked along the corridor, knowing it was late at night - perhaps even early in the morning - and he should be sleeping himself. But he found it difficult to sleep when he was concerned about someone and when images played on his mind - and unable to sleep, he had summoned the Baron and requested his services.

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><p>At night, the library seemed ever more oppressing and mysterious than it did in the day, with the ancient tomes on every shelf and the many nooks and crannies which turned and branched off in every direction, leading to secret study places. "Is he in his usual place, Baron?" Albus asked softly, glancing at the Baron who nodded. "He is. Shall I leave you to penetrate his inner sanctum?"<p>

"No. Please, come. I assume you spoke to him earlier this evening?" Albus was already heading toward the passageway between two towering bookcases, near to the Restricted Section, up a small flight of stairs and into a secluded space that few knew. The Baron followed a pace behind, "Not exactly."

Albus paused and peered into the gloom, before lighting his wand and gracefully throwing light into the lantern that was close to the window. The flame flared and they could see - and Albus took another step forward. The study area was surrounded with books and the low, arched window - in the middle was a wooden desk carved from a dark wood Albus did not recognise with a chair behind. The chair was pushed away from the desk but was empty. That was because Severus was asleep on the black sofa beside the bookcases, one hand lying with fingers open beside him, a book on the floor. Albus eased across the carpeted floor and picked up the book, examining the now creased page. "Oh, Severus. You need to stop this." He murmured, placing the tome referring to black curses that were rare maladies on the table and kneeling beside the dreaming Severus. "There is no cure, and you know that well." He brushed his blackened fingers against the black hair resting almost lifelessly against Severus' pale cheek. "He will make himself ill, with this constant studying." He said, half to the Baron and half to himself.

The Baron seemed inclined to agree, "He risks harming himself."

Albus exhaled slowly through his mouth, "I will speak to him in the morning. He will fight for anything, our Severus. You know his stubbornness - you saw him when he was a child."

"Many a time did we stop and discuss the darkest of curses in this very spot." The Baron reminisced, "A very talented wizard - one whom has never been allowed to fulfil his true potential."

Albus was still staring at Severus. "Indeed. Maybe he will have the chance, soon, to prove his worth and his bravery to us all - especially those who doubt him. But not tonight." He turned to face the Baron, "Tonight, we shall let him sleep." He undid his cloak and pulled the dark grey material from his shoulders, carefully resting it over Severus and tucking the corners into the creases in the sofa. "Sleep well, my brave soldier." He stepped back. "Baron - will you watch over him, just tonight?"

The Baron nodded, "Of course." He hovered nearer to Severus. "Might I ask what you mean, when you refer to Severus proving his bravery?"

Albus glanced at him, attention still distracted by his sleeping Potions' Master. "Not now, Baron - understand that there are some things that even you cannot know."

"Severus is a dear friend, Albus. I hope no harm will come to him." The Baron's tone had turned almost into a warning. Albus turned and stared at him, "I will protect him the best I can." He reasoned, and his voice was firm too. "You know that."

The Baron considered him. "I shall watch over him." He waited until Dumbledore had turned away, before voicing his final statement. "Do you not think, when he faces the Dark Lord and presents himself to you, bears the scars of his past and the open wounds of his present and still finds the time to search desperately for a cure for your hand - he is proving his worth and his bravery?"

Albus looked at him one final time. Something akin to grief and guilt was reflected in his blue eyes, but he said nothing of it. Instead, his words were monotonous. "Good night, Baron."

"Good night, Headmaster." The Baron watched him leave, and when he was sure he was alone, he returned his attention to the sleeping Severus. A pause. Severus stirred slightly but remained asleep, fingers clutching the robe as he adjusted to the new warmth. "I warned you, young Severus." The Baron murmured. "I warned you not to become attached to him - for he will betray you, too." If emotions had been tangible to him, he was sure he would have felt grief. "He already has."


	9. Chapter 9

**SS19's Advent Calendar**

_For authenticity purposes, I forgot to open some doors and instead open them late…. ~SS19_

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><p><strong>9<strong>**th**** December: Unopened Books**

"Severus. If you do not talk to me, I cannot begin to help you." Headmaster Dumbledore resorted to using Severus' first name to see if this would elicit some reaction from him, but it did not. The eleven year old child just continued to stare at his hands, clasped together in his lap, not raising his head, hardly blinking, hardly breathing. Albus watched him, watched the blood trickling down his upper lip and chin and onto his robes and exhaled slowly through his nose. "Severus. Who did this to you?" But still, Severus would not look at him. He stood. "I will fetch Madame Pomfrey to examine your nose, as I believe it is broken. You will wait here." He crossed to the door, past Severus on the chair, looking back at the final moment but not knowing quite what to say. The child, who was so small and so thin and so quiet - so very young and so very new - did not even move. Something in that, something in those black eyes that hardly met his, threatened to break Albus' heart. But he turned his face away and moved toward the door, trying to put the child out of his mind.

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><p>If there was something about Severus that had not changed in nearly twenty years, it was his handwriting. Albus examined the birthday card that had appeared on his desk that afternoon, typically dark and addressed in a black envelope. Severus' scrawling letters, well formed yet cramped upon the parchment, detailed a sentimental message wishing Albus very best wishes for the next year and Severus' customary signature. He never signed his name - he only ever signed 'Your Potions Master'. Albus preferred that title. He placed the card in the centre of his mantlepiece, moving some of those from lesser important people so that Severus' took pride of place. He smiled and glanced distractedly at the bookcase, wondering if he had time to read another book before heading out to the Ministry in the evening for another meeting. His roaming gaze stopped when he noticed something rather peculiar - one of the books was upside down. The spine was absolutely the wrong way round and certainly out of place with his other books. He pulled the book out with very little care and the pages fell away from the aged spine, hitting the ground before Albus realised quite what the book was. It was one of his, from his childhood, a book read to Wizarding children about the importance of family and traditional values. He had not looked at it for many years. He knelt on the carpet to pick up the pages and turned them, looking at the pictures and the few words. He had never really read the book - his thoughts changed direction rapidly when he realised the pages had been written on.<p>

Not written on. They had been drawn on. Crosses and lines marked the pages, splitting up what seemed to be a happy family and split them into several pieces. Albus looked further into the book, turning the pages more rapidly as he watched the story changed beyond recognition - the dark lines and the tears in the pages - weaving hatred and destruction into the pages of Albus' book. He hesitated when he saw the reverse of words imprinted on the right hand page. There were words on the other side - he would be able to look at the handwriting - something told him to stop, something warned him that this was not something he should examine, he could feel the anger and the heartbreak as if it was a tangible part of the room. But he was reaching out, lifting the page and folding it into place so he could read the words, three words, filled with self hatred and self loathing and self disgust, the pronoun and the verb, a four letter word - and he knew the way the 'I' had been formed, and he knew the way the two consonants and two vowels joined together, and the loop on the 'y' in the final word, mirrored in the 'f' at the end. He knew the strokes on the page. That poor child, the small and thin and quiet and young child who had sat before Albus and hardly said a word.

He swallowed the lump that had formed involuntarily in his throat and knew that hindsight was a terrible reward for experience. He could have done more. The next pages were blank - which was almost amusing to Albus. He had once written in this book, changing the last page, the last words of the story in his own immature, teenage handwriting. It was a fairytale, after all, this book. He stood and glanced once at the last page, reading his own words and remembering the emotions that had overwhelmed him and swept over him as he had written those letters with his quill. He and Severus were not so different, after all.

He threw the book into the fire, watching it burn with some perverse delight.

After all, there was no such thing as happy endings where family was concerned.

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><p><em>Thank you for the prompt, Spencer-Reid!<em>


	10. Chapter 10

**SS19's Advent Calendar**

_All right, you caught me. I have been too busy to update. However, that means three doors opened today! Oh, and if people are wondering where the Christmas themed updates have gone - well - I have something special planned on 13__th__ December and beyond…anyone know what is important about 13__th__ December? Tonight, though, a nice one from the Goblet of Fire inspiration I had earlier today when out and about. ~ SS19_

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><p><strong>10<strong>**th**** December - 'Do you not trust me?'**

"We would like to call Albus Dumbledore, who has stated that he would like to speak on the behalf of Severus Snape." The Ministry of Magic was filled with people, those who belonged to the Ministry, those who worked for the various publications that swarmed the Wizarding World and generally important figures. One of the most important of those was Albus Dumbledore, who stood when his name was mentioned and made his way to the centre of the room, wearing robes of deep ruby red and his hands folded over his chest. He glanced at the young man chained to the chair next to him and half smiled reassuringly at Severus. "I wish to give evidence to this council regarding Severus and his return from Lord Voldemort." He could feel Severus' anxiety and fear - should Albus fail to convince the Minister and Barty Crouch, he would spend the rest of his life in Azkaban at the mercy of Dementors. Albus, though, was not ready to see this happen - over the past two months when he had helped Severus to repair and rebuild a life that had been shattered by Lord Voldemort at such a young age, he had grown to understand that perhaps Severus truly meant to redeem himself and he wanted to support this as best he could - anything to ease his own guilt ridden conscience and the spike of sadness that pierced his heart every time he locked gazes with the other man.

Barty Crouch was not sympathetic to Severus' cause, and the evidence that had been stacked against Severus was terrible overwhelming - but Albus remained true to his promise that he would protect Severus and spare him Azkaban. "Severus has admitted freely that he was indeed a Death-Eater and took the Mark when he was fifteen years old. He has also freely admitted that he has committed crimes under Lord Voldemort's command, but that he has never outrightly killed or murdered anyone - despite what the evidence you have collected suggests." Albus did not believe all of the evidence was trustworthy and he believed there were sources out there which would like to see Severus' downfall.

"He may not have outrightly murdered someone, Albus, but he has certainly made potions and poisons with the intention of causing harm and knowing very well what You-Know-Who would use them for." Barty argued in response, and Albus did not have an argument for that. "He was just a child, Barty. He was easily swayed by those with more power around him - many would admit that Tom Riddle can be very persuasive when he needs to be." His tone had sharpened, just slightly. "Severus cannot be blamed for having his talents exploited."

Barty considered Severus. "I have read the evidence here, Albus. I have read that Severus Snape is a cruel and sadistic killer, who was very willing to serve You-Know-Who and proudly bore his Dark Mark. How can you stand and suggest otherwise?" He patted the stack of documents on his table, "Some even suggest he was the closest advisor to You-Know-Who - yet you would see him released and placed in a teaching position at Hogwarts? I think not. You would suggest that the Ministry do not know a Death-Eater when they see one."

Albus looked at Severus, who was shaking violently. The very idea of Azkaban terrified him, and Albus knew it was not right. He stepped forward to face Barty, "Please, Barty. He is twenty one years old. He is not a Death-Eater - he has been corrupted by Tom Riddle as others have been - but you have not seen him. He understands what he has done, he understands what hurt he has caused and he wishes to redeem himself - would you please try to understand?" He was appealing to the better side which he knew Barty had, but he could see from the ice in those dark eyes and knew that his words were not hitting home. Barty was already shaking his head. "If we show lenience for one, it will shout a statement about our Ministry and that is something I will not do. Mr. Snape, you have committed heinous crimes of a nature which can only lead to imprisonment in Azkaban."

Severus lowered his head so he did not have to hear the words and watch Crouch's face, and Albus would not stand for this. He raised his voice, "I will take him as my responsibility to Hogwarts."

Silence fell in the courtroom as all eyes turned to Albus. Barty stared at him, "Do you realise what you are saying, Albus?"

Albus nodded. "I understand perfectly. I will take Severus on my word that he is reformed and that he has redeemed himself." He hesitated, "If he has not, and it is clear that his loyalties still lie with Lord Voldemort, then you may also prosecute me as knowing that I am harbouring a Death-Eater and I will accept any punishment that you see fit, and you may do what you wish with Severus. But for now, I take him as my charge. I trust him. I know that he has tried to redeem himself and that he wishes to repair the damage that he has caused."

Severus was staring at him, some emotion and expression on his face that Albus could not understand. He turned to face Severus, looking straight into those eyes, "I trust him."

Barty Crouch leaned forward to look at Albus more closely.

Albus met his gaze. "What's it to be, Barty? My word, or Severus' life? My word that he has changed. My word that he is no longer Lord Voldemort's puppet. What's it to be?"

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><p>"Why did you do that?" Severus demanded, still rubbing his wrists where the chains had damaged his skin. "Why did you put your reputation on the line for me?"<p>

Albus continued to walk along the corridor, a small smile playing on his lips, "Is this gratitude, Severus?"

"You should not have done that. I am not worth it." Severus murmured. Albus stopped and whirled on his heel to face Severus, "And who are you to say that? Who are you to tell me what you are worth, Severus? You are now my responsibility, and I will tell you what you are worth. You are worth much more than Azkaban, you are worth much more than whatever the Ministry could ever suggest, and you are worth much more than what is burnt onto your left arm." His words and his vehemence clearly surprised Severus because he took a step back, shaking his head. "No…"

"Severus, listen to me. I made you a promise. I told you that I would protect you. I do not break those promises - do you not trust me?"

"No one has ever - no one would ever think me worth saving." Severus murmured.

Albus took a small step forward, "That changes, today. Being my responsibility does not just make you part of the school. I have a lot resting on you, Severus. Please do not let me down."

A pause, and then a slight smile twisted Severus' mouth. "Do you not…trust me?"


	11. Chapter 11

**SS19's Advent Calendar**

_Ahhah. Now I am back on track! Hurrah! ~ SS19_

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><p><strong>11<strong>**th**** December - Scarves**

Albus had a sore throat. It was dry and uncomfortable, and meant he constantly seemed to be clearing it. He leaned over and coughed into his hand, the movement hurting his chest and dissolving into wheezing. He managed to swallow and straightened his back, his eyes watering. He sniffed and rubbed one hand uncomfortably. He felt so old and achey and his temperature was fluctuating - one moment he was too hot and the next he was too cold - he was finding it difficult to focus on the parchment before him and the words jumped around, wiggling, not behaving. He moaned and his head throbbed. He wanted to raise a hand to massage his temples but it was too much effort. Instead he just slumped further into his chair and closed his eyes.

"Headmaster? Can I come in?" The voice sounded muffled and he didn't want to respond to it, so he didn't. He just sat in his chair, wondering if it was possible to summon a blanket to his hand - or at least a tissue - he could hear the door opening and he blearily raised his eyes, realising the one person that he really did not want to see in this state was stood opposite him, hands on his hips. "Sev-Severus." He slurred, voice thick. Severus, wearing his travelling cloak and still damp from the winter snow, took Albus in for a moment and then stepped forward, "Did you catch the winter flu, Headmaster?" He asked, and his voice was almost verging on sympathetic.

Albus wanted to glare at him, but instead simply shook his head, "I feel terrible."

"Well, you will if you sit up and continue to try to work." Severus chastised. He came closer. "Why don't you go to bed? The Wizarding World can surely survive your absence for one night? You need to sleep and recover some energy, that is the best way to beat these things. Have you eaten or drunk anything?" The idea of Severus being almost like Poppy was amusing to Albus and if he could have laughed, he would have done. Instead, the idea of a warm bed and soup cheered him. Severus scraped Albus' chair back and touched the back of his hand to Albus' burning forehead. "Yes, you have tried to fight this for too long, Headmaster. Up and to bed, now."

Albus wanted to get up, he really did, but he was comfortable here. Severus glared at him, "Do not make me drag you."

Albus coughed again and wished he had a tiss - Severus was pushing a handkerchief into his hand embroidered with his initials. "There. Do stop dribbling, it's rather unattractive and unbecoming." He lifted Albus' arm up and around his shoulders and pulled him up from the chair. "We'll put you to bed, Albus. You work far too hard."

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><p>The spiral staircase up to Albus' bedroom had never been harder, even when Severus had been mortally wounded, he thought as he finally managed to push the older man into his bedroom and ease him onto the bed. He pulled back the covers, slightly alarmed at the docility of the Headmaster. The other seemed exhausted. Severus shook his head, bemused, helping Albus to rest his thudding head against the pillows and his eyes fluttered closed. Severus half smiled as he tucked the blankets back around Albus and waited until the other's breathing had started to deepen. As almost an afterthought, he pulled the green and silver scarf from around his neck and tucked it around Albus' in response. "There. That is much better." He wandered across to the bathroom and poured a glass of water, leaving it by Albus' bedside before pausing to watch over him. "Sleep well."<p>

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><p>Albus woke feeling only marginally better but the sleep had certainly helped. He turned his head to one side and saw the glass of water and steaming soup beside him, inhaling the gentle aroma of his favourite flavour. Two potions phials were present too, labelled in Severus' scrawl - one for his headache and the other for his throat. A cloak was draped over the chair beside the bed. He brought one hand up, hoping to massage his throat but instead his fingers came into contact with soft, woollen material. He looked down at himself and saw the green and silver and realised that his now only partially blocked nostrils were picking another scent - musk - this was Severus' scarf. He remembered the Potions' Master from last night, helping Albus to bed - he clenched the scarf between his fingers and closed his eyes with a warm smile. "You are never going to let me forget this, are you?"<p>

Severus peered around the corner of the doorframe to the bathroom, mid-shaving, blade in hand. "No. Never."

Albus smiled fully, glanced toward Severus just once and saw the raise of the eyebrows, turned his face away and promptly fell asleep once more.


	12. Chapter 12

**SS19's Advent Calendar**

_Mission achieved, YenGirl. Mission achieved… ~ SS19_

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><p><strong>12<strong>**th**** December - Story Of Us**

Severus closed the book with a sharp snap, attracting Albus' attention. "It is rubbish." He growled, putting the book down as if it had offended him.

Albus, writing a letter at his desk, glanced up at smiled at Severus. "That would be why you read until the very last page, my dear?"

Severus glared at him, "Rita Skeeter deserves to be imprisoned in Azkaban. Or at least placed in the hands of the Dark Lord."

Albus put his quill down and clasped his fingers together. "It does not offend me, Severus. I found the idea rather amusing and certainly complimentary. The dear girl does not know how close to the truth she is, on some parts."

Severus still seemed rather incensed. "How dare she write such things about the saviour of the Wizarding World?" He looked up at Albus, "And you, of course."

Albus shook his head despairingly, "Do not let it bother you, my boy. It is just a book. You know the truth. My closest friends know the truth. Let this book spread rumours about me, because then that means people are talking about me." He watched Severus for a moment longer, but when the other just seemed to drift off into thinking he returned to his letter. There was comfortable silence between them for a few minutes, before Severus raised his head and spoke again. "Do you think they will ever - write stories about me?"

Albus contemplated this, "Would you like stories to be written about you, Severus?"

Severus glanced toward him, "It was a stupid question."

Albus stood and crossed to where Severus was sat, leaning on the side of the armchair. "I am sure, one day, people will tell their children and their grandchildren and their great-grandchildren about the bravest man in this war."

Severus half smiled, as if he was embarrassed. "And…what about me?"

Albus ruffled his hair with a slight chuckle, "Well. I know that they will talk about the man who supported Albus Dumbledore through his darkest hour."

Severus looked away. "They'll talk about a Death-Eater."

"No, they won't." Albus comforted. "I will make sure of that. I will make sure that your story - your real story, your true story - is recited across the Wizarding World, Severus, as the person who helped to bring down Lord Voldemort. The spy who risked so much and sacrificed everything for a better future, yet remained a secret. If I could promise you one thing, Severus, it is that in the future, every child will know your name, like they know the name Harry Potter." And although Severus did not respond, Albus could tell that the words meant so much to him.

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><p>"Tell us about Professor Snape again, father. Tell us about how he helped to destroy Voldemort." The child bounced excitedly on his father's knee, dark hair brushing against his face as he looked up into the face of his parent. His father regarded him for a long moment, "He was just very lucky."<p>

"No, no, he was so brave." The child answered, gripping his father's shirt. "Everyone talks about him."

A flush touched his father's pale skin. "Is that so?"

"All my friends!" The child drew back to gaze at his parent, "That's why I'm so proud he's my dad."

Severus smiled and pulled his son into his arms, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead as he did so. He felt the child curl closer into his arms and glanced up at the portrait on the wall - the portrait of Albus who had promised to watch over Severus during and after the war. Albus twinkled at him as Severus closed his eyes and just enjoyed the moment.


	13. Chapter 13

**SS19's Twelve Days Of Christmas**

_Yes, there was a slight AU element in the previous story but considering my Severus likes to hug people, I don't think I can be classed as canon, right? Nice to see you enjoyed Severus the father, not that he'll be popping up anywhere again soon - or will he? Slight change now - as Christmas is coming and SS19 is getting excited…_

**_On the first day of Christmas, SS19 gave to me, Sev and Al dressing a fir tree… ~ SS19_**

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><p>"Severus. I require your help in a most serious and delicate matter." Albus gripped Severus' arm and practically dragged him along the corridor away from the students Severus had started to terrorise only twenty minutes before. Slightly disgruntled, Severus pulled his arm away and glared at Dumbledore, "Headmaster. Please do not ruin my only source of entertainment in this damned prison."<p>

Albus twinkled in his general direction, "Ah, but Severus, this is important. It simply cannot wait, and it simply cannot dawdle. No matter how many points you hoped to take from those Gryffindors." He gestured gaily into the spiral staircase leading up to his office and Severus, still shaking his head and muttering something unpleasant about the Headmaster's tendencies under his breath, obliged and started up the stairs. "This had better be as important as you say, Headmaster, although knowing you I would suggest it is most likely to be something mundane and simple and - what is that?" His sentence drew to an immediate halt as he stared across Albus' office. Albus, uncommonly delighted, bounced on his heels, "It's a fir tree, Severus!"

"I can see that, Headmaster. How did it get here?" Severus stared up at the ten-foot tree leaning over him and reaching into the very ceiling of Albus' office. Fawkes seemed rather affronted, and landed on Severus' shoulder with a squawk headed in Albus' direction as the older wizard approached the tree. "I transfigured it." He did seem rather proud of himself, reaching out to touch the emerald leaves with his fingers. "What do you think?"

Severus looked back to Albus, "Don't you think it is quite - ah - large?"

Albus positively beamed at Severus, "When do I ever do anything by half, Severus?" He teased, "You know me better than that, my child. Now, the very important thing I need you to help me with is this. Are you ready, because its magnitude may knock you off your feet - it is such an honour to ask, after all."

Severus stared at him, one eyebrow sharply raised, "Tell me?"

"I need you…" Albus paused for dramatic effect, "To help me…decorate this tree." He smiled, "I can tell by your surprised expression that you never expected such a privilege. You may also close your mouth, Severus…"

Severus jerked himself back to the present, "I am sorry - did you just - you brought me up here - no, thank you, Dumbledore. I will leave you to decorate your Christmas tree. I have no time for such frivolity."

Albus' face visibly fell, "But Severus - it's terribly dreary to do it yourself! I wanted to decorate the tree with you." He gestured to the desk, "See, all these! I wanted you to help."

Severus folded his arms over his chest, "Is this another one of your dreadful schemes to get me more involved with the happenings of Hogwarts?"

Albus looked away, "I thought you might like the company. Christmas is no time to be alone in your office marking exams and homework, Severus. If you really dislike the idea, you can of course leave."

Severus considered. "I suppose an hour would not hurt; I have very little marking left to do. I do not want your tree to be a travesty on the eyes, after all. You do need my help."

Albus had stopped listening halfway through that sentence - probably a good thing, Severus reflected, as the younger wizard glanced into the decorations. Fawkes, realising a potential ally had sided with the man who had brought the tree into his home and disrupted his perch, made an offensive noise and then took off once again. Albus watched the phoenix bemusedly, "He does have such terrible mood swings. Here, you can choose something first."

Severus pulled out a brightly coloured orange and magenta bauble, complete with polka dots. "Your choice of decorations certainly is - ah - interesting, Headmaster." He blinked because the brightness was burning the backs of his eyes, "Do you have anything a little more…subdued?"

Albus laughed delightedly, "Once again, Severus, you have incorrectly interpreted my ways and means. Observe my wardrobe, and then may I suggest you rethink your question?"

Severus nodded and muttered something to himself, before putting the offending decoration away and instead retrieved an interestingly shaped cutting out. He examined it curiously, "And what is this?"

Albus came over and turned the decoration around, "It's a snowman, Severus, what does it look like?"

Severus contemplated the 'snowman' - "A mass of cotton wool with pen marks?"

Albus mock-glared at him, "I will have you know, Severus, that I made this when I was four years old in the family home. It's a tradition and also an heirloom, and certainly many many years older than you so I would ask that you treat it with a little - ah - respect?" He took the decoration off Severus and looked at it with a warm and nostalgic smile, "So many memories associated with such a simple thing." He raised his head and watched Severus looking into the box again, an almost dejected expression playing on his face. "Do you have any decorations that you have kept from your childhood, Severus? We could put them on here, if you like?"

Severus glanced at him, "Oh. We didn't have a tree."

Albus thought he had, at first, misunderstood the statement. "You did not have a tree?"

"Not all of us were rich and famous families, Albus!" Severus snapped before he could help himself. He instantly looked up, "Sorry. I did not mean - it was too expensive - it would have run on electricity and we could not afford that at times." He pulled an array of sparkling paper from the box, "I think you shredded this by accident, Headmaster."

Suddenly desperately sad for Severus and picturing an empty living room with no tree, Albus softened his voice. "That is called tinsel. It's one of those things that you either like or do not."

Severus, seeming to have forgotten the more sombre tone of the conversation, investigated a second box. "You seem to like it a lot, then, Headmaster?" He pointed into the box and Albus smiled despite himself. "I do. It sparkles. I like things that sparkle."

Severus looked at the tree, "So…where do you start?" He pulled a long piece of tinsel from the box in colours of green and gold and rested it on the lower branches, frowning slightly when it didn't have quite the visual impact he had expected. Albus wanted to laugh at this spectacle - Severus, normally so impassive and generally cold, seeming rather interested in decorating the tree. "Just carry on like that, Severus. I just want to get another box. Please do not set anything on fire, my boy."

As Albus pottered away, Severus looked at the snowman again. His mental image of a four year old Albus decorating the snowman amused him as he picked it up and rested it in his hand. He understood the value that such an item could have, of course. Albus would have placed this on his tree every year, and every year would have added more memories and more feelings to be associated with just a snowman. But it was not just a snowman - not to Albus. It was a piece of his past and his history as a person.

Albus lingered in the doorway to his bedroom, watching Severus from a safe distance. He had not missed the expression of almost longing on Severus' face and glanced down at the box in his hand. "Here we are." He attracted Severus' attention and handed him the box. Severus opened it and looked inside. "It's a craft making kit - you can go and sit over there and make a decoration. Go on, I will hear no arguments." Albus waved a hand at his desk and the letters cluttering the wooden surface carefully folded themselves onto a shelf on his bookcase. Severus looked at the box and was reaching for his wand - Albus took it off him. "No, no, that is cheating, my boy. Go on and do it by hand. I can wait, I need to make the candles work. Every year, some seem to light when I cast the spell and others don't, and it always frustrates me." He turned away to show he was expecting no argument from Severus, but was still pleasantly surprised when the other wandered over to the desk and emptied the craft box onto the desk, lying up the pieces of felt and pens and the scissors. Trying not to watch him too carefully, Albus used his wand to lift the candles onto the tree so they hung amongst the dark green branches, before waving his wand and counting those that lit. As predicted, several remained dull. Muttering something explicit under his breath so Severus did not hear, Albus focused on ignited each empty candle, repositioning some until the room was bathed in the flickering lights from the tree. He glanced toward Severus who was now deeply absorbed into his work, the tip of his tongue poking by the corner of his mouth as he narrowed his eyes and focused on whatever he was cutting. The image was perhaps the most amusing Albus had seen in a while and he had to turn away so Severus could not see his silent laughter. He sorted through his own boxes of decorations, ordering them by size and colour until he was finally disturbed by Severus who stood and crossed to join him. "I like the candles."

Albus looked to see what Severus had created, but Severus shook his head, "At the end." He looked at the lines of decorations. "Can I help?"

"Yes. Put this on the tree." Albus handed him a small, Father Christmas replica carved from ceramic and waited for Severus to use the golden thread to hang the model onto the tree - "No, not there!" He teased, adjusting it slightly when Severus drew away. He caught sight of the glare and laughed, "I am just teasing you, Severus." He took a step back, "I do not think I have enough tinsel…"

* * *

><p>"You had enough tinsel, Headmaster. In fact, I wonder if you had too much tinsel - I vaguely remember the tree being dark green." Severus stated in response to Albus' comment about how the nearly finished tree looked. Severus was balancing on a ladder in a rather precarious position, adjusting the position of a hanging teddy bear. Albus considered this answer, "No, you see Severus, there is still some dark green there." He pointed, as Severus dismounted the ladder and looked toward his table. Albus caught the glance, "I am very intrigued to see what you created, Severus."<p>

Severus picked up his decoration and held it behind his back. "Ready? It's a surprise."

Albus nodded, "I'm practically shaking with anticipation, Severus."

Severus raised an eyebrow, "Really?" He handed the decoration to Albus. "What is it you say? Ta da, and all that."

Albus looked at the decoration with a delighted grin, "It's me!" It was Albus - a wizard wearing magenta and orange robes adorned with polka dots and a matching hat, a long grey beard and blue eyes. His hand was gripping a wand. Albus looked up at Severus, "This is brilliant." He was genuinely surprised at how well Severus had made the decoration. Severus did not seem particularly pleased with this surprise, "I do have other talents, Headmaster. Do you like him?"

"Of course I like him! We must put him on the tree in your rooms, immediately."

Severus hesitated, "I was hoping he could - maybe - go on this tree." His eyes deliberately avoided Albus'.

Albus touched his arm, "Where would you like to put him?"

"I don't know." Severus answered, "Probably in that space you mentioned."

"No, no, Severus. This decoration deserves pride of place. I know." Albus wandered over to the tree and carefully hung the new decoration next to his snowman. "There. I am sure they can be great friends."

"He does look very happy there." Severus answered carefully.

Albus put one arm around Severus' shoulders, "Well. I would say that is a job well done, wouldn't you, Severus?"

They both regarded the beautiful tree, now decorated with a piece of themselves as well as the many flickering candles and the decorations that were terribly coloured yet utterly endearing too. Severus glanced at the Headmaster and smiled brightly, "Can we do this every year?"


	14. Chapter 14

_On the second day of Christmas, SS19 gave to me,_

_A pair of warming gloves…_

* * *

><p>In all honesty, Severus Snape despised Christmas shopping. He hated the very idea of it, the need for it - all this twaddle about giving and receiving and smiling. It did not sit well with his disposition and was enough to turn his stomach. However, he broke the habits of a lifetime once a year when he headed to Diagon Alley to buy a present for a particularly flamboyant and exceedingly difficult to please Headmaster of Hogwarts. Now, Severus was one of those people who liked to use his logical and keen and perceptive mind to dissect problems - such as why the bow-weed did not correctly react with the holly, or where Minerva always seemed to find yet another tartan hat to clash terribly with the rest of her wardrobe, or how he could get rid of the breeze that was keeping him awake in the middle of night despite the fact his blinds and curtains were closed, his door was shut and the draught excluders deployed and the key turned in the lock - because clearly wind could travel through key holes. He used this same logical and keen and perceptive mind to consider just what to buy Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. After all, what did one get a man who had everything, more friends than Severus had books and a circle of influence that was greater than Severus' dislike for Harry Potter. He had deemed this task impossible once before. Over the ten years that Severus had bought presents for the headmaster, after the proverbial ice had melted a few years into their friendship, Albus had been treated to varying efforts from Severus. Never had Severus quite succeeded in finding that perfect gift, and for a perfectionist such as Severus, this infuriated him. It was not that he did not think about it for long enough - it was simply that Albus never wanted anything.<p>

Every year, without fail, Severus embarked on Mission Find Albus A Christmas Present by asking around his colleagues, even those he had to pick up from the floor when they realised he was actually speaking to them in an acceptable and friendly tone. He would then linger more than usual in Albus' presence, wishing the other would drop hints about his desired - ah - presents - but the older man just twinkled at him as if he knew exactly what Severus' game was.

Pulling his cloak tighter around himself, Severus trekked through Diagon Alley, looking into the decorated windows and seeing no inspiration. The clouds were dark above him and snowflakes were starting to gently swoop from the sky, landing in his hair as his breath steamed before his mouth. "Damn you, Albus." Hissing beneath his breath and swearing that the dark Lord would be easier to buy for, he crossed to the next window and examined the books with little enthusiasm. He hated being so predictable - he wanted to choose something completely out of the box, something Albus would never expect of him. Something he would like, something he would really like…kicking the pile of freshly fallen snow, Severus shivered and brushed his hand across his nose, feeling moisture form on his cold skin. He hated snow - the bitter chill seemed to bite his skin and he wished he had a hat. His fingers were freezing, too. The next window held his attention for longer - and while he was regarding the products, he did not hear the door open. It was only when something knocked against his shoulder that he looked up - straight at Albus.

"Albus!" He exclaimed, jumping away from the window as Albus acknowledged him and quickly put something behind his back, "Severus! Fa - Fancy seeing you here!"

"What are you…" Severus asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh - nothing - I was - visiting an old friend." Albus lied, smiling at Severus. "I should be going - Hogwarts - Headmaster things - you know…" He hesitated, "Your fingers are practically blue, Severus. Are you cold?" Before Severus even had the chance to reply, Albus had taken his hands in his own, "My goodness, child! You of all people cannot afford to lose your fingers! Here!"

Severus tried to complain, but the Headmaster was already pulling off his gloves and pushing them quickly onto Severus' trembling hands, "That's better, my boy. Do not be so foolish in future!" He was still keeping whatever he had purchased behind his back as he drew back to look at Severus, who was appreciating the warmth of the self-heated gloves. "Enjoy your shopping trip, Severus…"

"Shopping?" Severus' head jerked up, "I am certainly not - shopping, me? No, do not be so ridiculous, Headmaster. I am just - ah - " He pointed, "Going, this way."

Albus grinned at him. "Of course. See you at dinner time, Severus."

Severus started walking in the opposite direction to Albus - counting in his head - he turned to look back and caught Albus' gaze once again. He hurried away - he was not going to be caught.

Albus returned his gaze back to the road in front of him, choosing a path to Diagon Alley, opening his bag and peering inside with a smile. Yes, Severus would like this present particularly.


	15. Chapter 15

_On the third day of Christmas, SS19 gave to me…Martha Dumbledore trends…_

* * *

><p>Severus stalked through the corridors cursing under his breath. If he ever found out who had given Albus that Christmas issue of the magazine by Muggle Martha Stewart, he would hex him into oblivion. Christmas was infuriating enough as it was - yes, Severus had enjoyed decorating the tree with Albus and he had gone shopping and had looked in the windows of Diagon Alley and that had been perfectly acceptable. But this was a new travesty. This was something not even Severus Snape, known for his tolerance of torture and the Dark Lord Voldemort, could stand. Albus talking about the magazine was fine. Albus being enthusiastic about the magazine was almost amusing. Albus showing everyone the magazine was marginally infuriating.<p>

Albus creating every single craft in the magazine, leaving these creations all around the school and making sure there were several in each classroom was trying Severus' patience.

The thing was, Albus for all his magical talents and ability, he was not particularly good at making these crafts. The napkin holders with the mistletoe were square - not circular as they should have been. The reindeers had three legs because Albus had never actually seen a reindeer - or so he said - and the antlers were misshapen and drooping over the sad deer's eyes. Severus had never seen such a pitiful creature since he had last looked at his reflection in the mirror. Albus had seemed rather pleased with the candlesticks that he had placed in everyone's classrooms - Severus had lit the wick, the candle had practically exploded and he was still cleaning the wax from the ceiling. And the walls. And the marble tiles. And the bedposts. And the curtains. He had deemed Albus' crafts as dangerous as a result, and had threatened the older man should another one cross his path. His office seemed the safest retreat from the madness that Albus was exhibiting, and he was heading there now. Martha Stewart deserved imprisonment in Azkaban and the person who had passed the magazine to Albus would not just be hexed to oblivion - they would also be given to Lord Voldemort as a Christmas present.

And considering Voldemort hated Christmas, Christmas presents generally became puddles of blood and skin on the floor. Amusing himself, Severus pictured Voldemort receiving a puppy for Christmas as he unlocked his office door and entered the room.

In all honesty, it took him a good few minutes to notice the change because he was so familiar with his office he never thought to inspect it when he walked through the door. It was only when he subconsciously lowered himself into his armchair and realised mid-movement that the chair was no longer there, falling onto the ground on his rear end instead, that he looked around. Anger was not a suitable description for the horror and shock and sheer rage that swept through his very bloodstream as he took in and processed the pink wall paper that now covered his office walls. The carpet - carpet? - beneath him was a deep burgundy colour and he wasn't quite sure, in his opinion, it matched the walls correctly. He pushed himself up from the floor, wondering what further travesty would befall him should he venture into his bedroom. Surely he could just turn away and not risk such a thing - but - his curiosity was far too powerful and he eased closer to his door. He drew his wand, just in case. He pushed back the door and peered into his bedroom.

The howl was probably audible in the corridor.

* * *

><p><em>Slam.<em> Albus Dumbledore jumped when his door was flung open and a whirlwind of black swept into his office. He was suddenly confronted with the image of Severus, who was rather flushed, depositing a piece of paper onto his desk and turning away to stare out of the window. Albus looked at Severus, the piece of paper, Severus again and then finally picked up the parchment. He read the words aloud, "Headmaster. I hate you. Please accept my resignation." He frowned and looked back at Severus, "Ah - Severus? Did I do something to offend you?"

Severus faced him, eyes narrowed and muscles tensed. "Do you know who I am, Dumbledore?"

Albus looked at him, admittedly confused. "Yes - you are my Potions Master, have been for nearly fifteen years?" He fumbled for words when Severus advanced on him, "Incredibly intelligent, somewhat….unstable…but generally an admirable being and certainly one of my closest friends…." Severus showed no signs of stopping and Albus backed away, scraping his chair back, "I must say, Severus, I am not quite sure what you are alluding to, here."

Severus leaned forward, palms flat on Albus' desk now, "I am the Dark Lord's favourite. Would you like to know why? Because I have a particular penchant for torture, and it is something that I am incredibly good at."

Albus shook his head, "Still not quite sure what is happening here…"

Severus raised one eyebrow sharply. "Tell me, Albus. Where did you find it in your…insurmountable…wisdom…to decide that redecorating my office was a good idea?" Before Albus could answer, he raised one finger, "I doubt even you can withstand the Cruciatus curse, Headmaster."

Albus half-laughed, "Is that what this is about? Dear me, Severus, I thought it was something serious!" He knew, instantly, by Severus' reaction, that making light of the situation had been a mistake. He raised both palms in a gesture of surrender, "My boy - before you draw your wand - did I do something wrong? Was the colour not right?"

Incredulous now, Severus' voice was filled with acid, "Headmaster! _When have I ever liked magenta_?"

Albus seemed almost hurt. "Severus - you gave me a picture from the magazine with 'I'd love my room to look like this' scrawled underneath. Was it the wrong picture?"

Severus blinked. "That was a sarcastic note!"

Albus looked particularly innocent, "Well, I am sorry, my boy, if sarcasm just does not translate well when using the written word."

"It said, 'yours sarcastically' underneath!" Severus' hands had become fists. Albus twinkled at him, "Oh, Severus, I must have missed that in my old age with my failing eyesight."

"Unless you correct this right now, Albus, it will be more than your eyesight which is failing you." Severus dropped his voice to a whisper, "I will have my revenge for this, Dumbledore. Mark my words. I will have my revenge." He held Albus' stare for a moment longer, meaning clear, before turning on his heel and leaving the office with yet another resounding slam of the door. Albus was quiet for a moment before dissolving into laughter and flicking his fingers against his lap. His call was answered and Dobby bowed before him, "Professor Dumbledore sir?"

Albus simply smiled at him. "I wanted to say thank you Dobby. Mission achieved."

* * *

><p><em>This chapter doesn't sit right with me. Not sure what it is. Your SS19 is rather bemused.<em>


	16. Chapter 16

_On the fourth day of Christmas, SS19 gave to me - Sev and Al doing something rather absurd…_

Something wet hit him on the back of the head.

Severus turned, glancing behind him. There seemed to be no one. This was the grounds of the Shrieking Shack, though, and he wasn't about to suggest the legends that had deemed it haunted were untrue. Since confronting Sirius Black here two years ago, the fear he had associated with the Shack seemed to have dwindled and now it was just slight unease. Made worse by the fact a snowball had hit on the back of the head from apparently nowhere. He continued along the white path, his boots leaving footsteps in the still wet snow behind him. He paused to observe the Shack from this distance, admiring it and its dilapidated beauty, imagining how it must have looked when it had been in its prime. That was when he was hit once again with a snowball, this time on his side. He glanced down at his robes, then up and around himself. His roving gaze picked up the smallest of movements, a slight rustle of the bushes. He pretended not to have noticed and instead brushed himself down, one hand moving slowly to his waist where his wand lay in his pocket. This time, when the snow came, he was ready. He blocked the snowball with a quick shielding spell. "Reveal yourself."

Silence greeted him. He narrowed his eyes. "Unless you wish to face expulsion, I suggest you reveal yourself. Now."

Still nothing. He advanced on the bush where he assumed his prey was crouched, wand now by his side. "I am going to count to three. There will not be a four." Impatient now, he blasted flames from the end of his wand and ignited the bush - and instantly heard coughing. If this was Potter, with his Invisibility Cloak - he crossed to the bush and glanced behind, "Detention, Pott - "

It wasn't Potter. "Headmaster!" Severus' voice changed, "What are you doing?"

Albus Dumbledore looked up at Severus from where he was crouched in the snow, wearing a black and white travelling cloak. "You disrupted my concentration, Severus!" Albus answered angrily, extinguishing the bush with a wave of his hand.

Severus held out a hand. "Let me help." He pulled the Headmaster back to his feet and glanced around, "Did you get hit by a snowball too? Is that why you were hiding?" He was so busy examining the landscape that he missed Albus' half smile. "I did not, Severus. Did you get hit by a snowball?"

Severus nodded once, eyes now narrowed. "I think it is a student."

"I doubt it, Severus. They do say the Shrieking Shack is haunted, after all." Albus looked up at the sky, "It looks like it may snow again and you have wet hair after that snowball hit you on the back of your head. You should think about heading to Hogwarts."

Severus did not answer straight away, staring at Albus. "I did not say I was hit on the back of the head."

Albus hesitated. "I thought…I thought…" He was floundering.

Severus smirked. "I am very interested to see how you will dig yourself out of this hole, Headmaster."

Albus met that gaze for a moment, before stepping off ahead of Severus. "I have no idea what you are talking about, Severus."

Severus let him walk on ahead, eyebrow raised. "Is that so?"

Albus tightened his travelling robe, "Come now, Severus. I will accompany you on the walk back to Hogwarts." He waited for a response, but did not receive one. "Severus?" He turned - and was met with a face full of snow, thrown with perfect aim by Severus who dissolved into laughter at Albus' shocked expression. "I must admit, Headmaster, that's rather amusing. You should never turn your back on a Slytherin, much less a Death-Eater." Severus grinned as Albus wiped the snow from his face and fixed the younger man with a glare. "And you would throw snowballs at a vulnerable and weak old man?"

Severus scoffed, "Old, certainly."

Albus folded his arms, "Are you suggesting, Severus, that my age limits me?"

"Of course not, Headmaster. I was just saying that you could not possible compete with a younger and - ah - more agile counterpart."

"Of which you are?" Albus responded sharply. "Very well. We can settle that ridiculous comment here and now."

"How? Pistols at dawn?"

Albus looked confused. "Pardon?"

Severus nearly rolled his eyes, "It's a Muggle saying. How can we settle this, Albus?"

"Well, my challenge to you is simple, Severus. A snowball fight. Here." Albus gestured to the snow, that was now starting to fall thickly. "We have plenty of resources, as you can see."

"A snowball fight? I think not, Headmaster. It is utterly absurd." Severus decided, shaking his head.

Albus smiled, "Afraid that an old man might actually best you, Severus?"

"Absolutely not, just trying to spare your honour and reputation. I would hate you to lose, Headmaster." Severus' smile was slightly twisted and certainly very amused. Albus raised an eyebrow, "You have goaded me far enough, Severus. Accept my challenge, or be called a coward."

"Fine. No magic, mind. Are we allowed a moment to position ourselves?"

"We absolutely can, my boy. Two minutes. Use your wand and you instantly forfeit. Winner, of course, gets gloating rights."

Severus nodded. "I look forward to that moment, then." He turned on his heel and disappeared into the trees, Albus following suit. A few minutes of silence, before Severus pressed himself flat against the trunk of the tree and started to tune out the sounds of the wildlife, the rustling wind, the falling snow, the moving leaves - focusing, waiting for just one sound - the sound of another wizard moving toward him… He would not pick up the snow before he needed to - it would freeze his hands - he would just wait…and wait…he peered out from the side of his tree and ducked as the snow catapulted at his face. He managed to hear Albus' delighted, "Not enough patience, my boy!" Moving from his discovered hiding place, eyes narrowed and ever more determined now, he picked up the snow and moved back toward the open, hoping to lure Albus out. If he had anything, after all, he had better reflexes than Albus - he only had to land one hit - he knew he starkly contrasted with the snow in his black cloak, but so did Albus - and Albus would never expect him to move back into such an exposed space. It was such a Gryffindor technique, but Severus desperately needed the element of surprise. He lingered just out of sight - and could hear footsteps creeping toward him. The snow was starting to melt in his hands and he clenched his fist to compact it further, examining the landscape and wondering whether he was in the most strategic location.

Movement at the corner of his eye revealed Albus and he whirled, flinging his weapon - but Albus had either sensed it or seen him and moved out of the way. He was able to identify the trajectory of the snowball and caught sight of Severus - Severus moved away - but Albus was now advancing on him with a fist full of snow and if Severus bent to pick up some of his own, Albus would win. "This is not very Gryffindor of you, Albus!" Severus shouted, met with a cruel grin from Albus. "Ah, but who ever said I was a Gryffindor, Severus? Do you submit, or would you like me to cover you in snow?"

Severus glared at him, his ever resourceful mind calculating options. "I do not think so."

He took another step back and an idea formed in his mind - a reckless and dangerous idea - but still an idea - he held out his hands. "Fine. Hit me."

Albus smiled, "With pleasure, my boy." He threw his snowball - but Severus took another step back as he did so - and with a shout of fright and shock disappeared off the edge of the hill and was gone from Albus' view. Albus sprinted across toward the edge of the hill, "Severus?" The drop rather sharp and Albus could not see Severus anywhere. "Severus!" He called, worried now, not quite willing to take another step - "Severus?" He looked desperately for that black cloak he knew so well, knowing he ought to - snow knocked him from his feet and into the white mixture as he reacted to the assault - he realised what had happened - Severus had not fallen off the edge, he had simply pretended and instead had ducked out of view. Albus spat cold snow from his mouth as he looked up at Severus, threatening him with another handful of snow. "Do you submit, Headmaster?" Severus asked, tone deadly serious.

"That is not fair, Severus." Albus answered.

Severus grinned. "But then again, Albus, I am thoroughly a Slytherin." And to make his point perfectly clear, he covered Albus with his handful of snow.


	17. Chapter 17

_On the fifth day of Christmas, SS19 gave to me, a talk about Carolling..._

_A treat for my British fans, who will appreciate some of this more than others. SS19 does enjoy her Christmas music at this time._

* * *

><p>"Have you got your feet on my table, Severus?" Albus asked after a moment of regarding the younger man, who was reading yet another book, slumped in Albus' armchair and his feet comfortably positioned on Albus' desk. "I am practicing, Headmaster."<p>

Albus observed him, amused. "Practicing for what?"

"When you make me Headmaster." Severus dropped his legs down, "Are you going somewhere?" He was referring to Albus' travelling cloak, glancing toward the dark sky outside and the heavy clouds that had formed as the night made its appearance. "It looks to me like it might rain and be yet another unpleasant evening. You should consider staying in."

"I can't, Severus. It's 17th December. It is my traditional carolling night." Albus responded. "Would you like to accompany me?"

Severus scoffed. "As if, Headmaster. The idea of you singing both terrifies me and worries me. I think I will stay here."

Albus perched on his desk, "Reading about more dark curses, Severus? I should think not. You should come. It's about stepping into Christmas, and walking in the air."

Severus shook his head again. "But Albus, it's cold outside."

"That is just an excuse, Severus. I say let it snow, let it snow, and let it snow - I rather like the idea of a white Christmas." Albus' smile was warm and affectionate as he regarded Severus, "Do you prefer to be indoors with mistletoe and whine and having yourself a merry little Christmas?"

"I prefer a silent night, Headmaster. I find that makes it a very holy night."

"There I was thinking you could not be more miserable and un-accommodating than last Christmas, Severus dear. Are you sure I cannot tempt you? It is a winter wonderland outside, after all."

"The day I go carolling is the day a spaceman comes travelling, Headmaster."

Albus shook his head, "A what?"

"It's a Muggle thing." Severus responded, "Rather like Santa Claus."

"But Severus! This is the time of year when Santa Claus is coming to town, and it's always a wonderful Christmastime!"

"I believe in Father Christmas, Headmaster, but I certainly do not believe in a 'saviour's day', and there certainly will not be any rocking around the Christmas tree. Please, go and entertain someone else with your little Saint Nicholas routine."

Albus relented. "Very well, my boy, I shall go carolling myself. Do you think the Death-Eaters know it's Christmas, at all?"

Severus glanced at him wearily, "Because definitely, the Dark Lord allows us to take sleigh rides and dance with Frosty the snowman…" His tone was clearly sarcastic. "Would you leave me be, Headmaster?"

"I do love this time of year, Severus." Albus dug around in the cloak cupboard for his hat. "I wish it could be Christmas every day."

"Maybe when the war is over, Headmaster. Until then - good night."

"Well, it will be lonely this Christmas, Severus, without you and your usual joyful self. I will bid you good night. May I ask you what your favourite Christmas song is?"

Severus contemplated. "Yes. It's 'In the Bleak Midwinter.'"

"And why am I not surprised?" Albus muttered as he left the room.


	18. Chapter 18

_On the sixth day of Christmas, SS19 gave to me - Christmas trees and playing..._

* * *

><p>It was the rustling sound that attracted Albus' attention first, followed by swift and complete silence. Albus Dumbledore was pushing one hundred and fifty years old, which meant he had much experience in life and the world in general - and that meant he knew when someone had made a noise, realised they had been noticed, and was now trying very hard to pretend that they were not there. The thing was, the noise had come from under the Christmas tree in the staff room. There were presents under the tree, too, and Albus wondered if this meant there was a student playing a practical joke. He lingered by the door to the staffroom, staying still and silent, knowing that he could outlast any opponent no matter how patient they were. Rustling echoed again and Albus saw, from the light of the door, a flash of a face he knew very well. With a wicked grin to himself, he ignited the candles and said in a loud voice, "Looking for something, Severus?"<p>

There was a sharp intake of breath, something that sounded like a swear word, and then Severus' head emerged from under the tree, looking rather bewildered and also a little sheepish. "This…this is not what it looks like."

Delighted with the very image, Albus laughed loudly. "And what is it then, Severus, because it looks an awful lot like you are hiding under a Christmas tree to me."

Severus straightened his back, "I was - checking for traps."

"Traps?" Albus mused, drawing the word out with a raise of an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Yes. Student pranks, they seem to happen a lot at this time of year, Headmaster." He picked himself up from underneath the tree and brushed himself down.

"Are you sure you were not just counting the presents with your name on, Severus?" Albus teased lightly. Severus raised one eyebrow at this, "You know I only ever receive one Christmas present, Albus, and it is from you."

"True. So, what were you doing?"

Severus folded his arms, "I am not inclined to say what I was doing, Headmaster. It was nothing ill-willed, I can assure you."

"Of course it wasn't." Albus smiled gently, "I shall cease my interrogation. Would you like to leave now, Severus?"

"Very much so, Albus. If you would be so kind."

Albus stepped aside to allow Severus to leave, admiring the rather pronounced flush that had coloured Severus' cheeks as he headed for the corridor outside. Albus wandered over to the tree, wondering just what Severus had been doing - although he was sure he would find out in time. He did hope it wasn't revenge for the Martha Stewart trick he had played on Severus - he reached into his pocket and pulled out the brightly coloured package he had brought to the staffroom. He examined the name tag, tracing Severus' name as he placed it under the tree. "One present, my foot, Severus dear."

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><p><em>PS - in the last chapter, I imagined Severus to be sarcastic when he said 'In The Bleak Midwinter' - please, please do not start a war here! SS19 does not like wars, they make her sad!<em>


	19. Chapter 19

**SS19's Advent Calendar**

_Saramagician, I accept your challenge. Let it be known, that between now and midnight on December 24__th__, any uncompleted stories will have had a full chaptered update of at least a thousand words. That includes the pesky Tricks of the Mind, which just will not write itself! Why? Why must it be so DIFFICULT? Why must it be like Severus? I shall start plotting immediately. Until then, enjoy this little offering – I love the twist on my most common of themes. Today, Severus tries his hand at a little story telling. I doubt he'll be very good... ~ SS19_

_On the seventh day of Christmas, SS19 gave to me, hurt-comfort a-brimming._

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><p>"I did warn you." That was the censure of a Potions' Master scorned, the scorn stemming from both anger and worry. More worry, than anger, he had to admit. But this was happening too regularly for Severus Snape's liking, and the more times it occurred, the more concerned he became. He adjusted the blanket around the weakened Headmaster and fixed Albus with his most stern glare, "You should not try to play with the Dark Lord's magic." Looking down at Albus, he could not believe it was only a few days since they had been throwing snowballs at each other in Hogsmeade – the other man seemed so frail and fragile. It pained Severus' very heart and he couldn't stand much more of this. "Please, Albus. I do not warn out of fussing – I have seen the curses he has made, I helped with some, I know how dangerous he can be – you need to be more careful."<p>

A faint and fluttering smile from Albus, "Listen to you, Severus. He who never risks himself, he who never heads into his potions not knowing what might happen – "

"I have a reasonable idea, Headmaster. I can calculate the most reasonable outcome and react to it – you have no idea what guards some of the Dark Lord's most treasured possessions..." He shook his head and turned away, "Some times your foolishness astounds me. For such a wise and powerful wizard, you worry me. Why can you not let your childish curiosity go?"

Albus watched him, "You care too much about me, Severus, and if you are not careful, it will be your downfall."

Severus threw himself into the armchair by Albus' bed, folding his arms darkly across his chest and turning to examine Albus. "Do not talk to me about downfalls, Headmaster. The way I see it, you seem to be attempting to destroy yourself as we speak – you are fuelling your own downfall – "

Albus held up a hand. "Thank you, Severus. As much as I appreciate your counsel, wisdom and opinion, I really do not need it now." His tone was firm and Severus accepted the warning, looking down at his hands clasped in his lap. There was silence for a long moment, before Albus spoke again. "Did you know, Severus, it is only seven sleeps until Christmas Day?"

Severus glanced at him, "Yes. Not that I am counting, like others I could mention." He shook his head, "It's a funny time of year."

Albus mused over these words for a long while, "Do you enjoy it?"

"I do." Severus paused. "Now."

Albus smiled at that, before watching Severus through his blue eyes. "How are you at telling stories?"

Severus raised an eyebrow, "How do you think I am at telling stories, Headmaster?"

"Based on your critical, intelligent mind and the fact you are constantly reading books, I would imagine very good. I wish you to tell me a story with either a Christmas theme or moral. Or both, if you are feeling particularly brave."

"I think not." Severus stood, "You should sleep."

"Severus." Albus said, almost pityingly. "You will not even get out that door."

Severus straightened his back and stalked from the room. Albus laid his head back against the pillows and counted to ten in his head. Precisely on cue, Severus' voice echoed in the small room. "You should have someone stay with you."

"I think you are the only one available to do that, Severus." Albus murmured in response. Severus lowered himself back into the armchair, "Just to check you are not doing anything else foolish, you understand?"

Albus nodded, "Of course." He waited expectantly, and Severus finally looked away, exasperated. "Fine. A story. Allow me a moment to gather my thoughts."

This, Albus thought to himself, ought to be entertaining.

Severus fidgeted with his fingers in his lap, before glancing up and at Albus. He cleared his throat, "Once upon a time – there was a child named No-One. He lived in a house, on a hill. There were other houses, but none quite like this. The house was sad. Sadness and grief were etched into the plaster board and the tiles and the window frames. When the wind whistled through the trees, the house was heard to sigh. When the rain poured, the droplets of water ran down the walls like tears. When thunder crashed, the house seemed to rage alongside."

_When the lightning flashed, the very horror of the house was reflected in the shadows cast further than before. When the sun came out and penetrated the sky, the dark walls were shaded by a tall oak, and light could never reach the house. When it was very cold, the cold seeped into the house and drained all happiness from inside. When it was very hot, the house seemed to sweat and moan against the unfriendly climate. It was never a happy house – how could it be a happy house?_

"No-One lived in the room at the top of the house, in the attic. There were no windows, and only one door. The door stayed locked during the day, and was opened only once during that time to distribute food. Aside from that, it remained closed."

_No-One would sit in the attic room, his legs pulled up to his chest and his forehead resting on his arms. His eyes would close because he did not want to see the monsters. The monsters that hid behind each beam, in the dust, glaring at him, sneering at him, watching him. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend that he was not there._

"When people looked at the house, and they asked, 'Who lives there?', the answer was always the same. 'No-One. No-One lives there.' That was true enough. No one of any importance lived there – just a boy – the boy named No-One. The boy, trapped in his attic room – but he was hardly there. His physical form was a prison, truly – but the boy was blessed with an imagination. An imagination like no other – and imagination where he could dream of new worlds and new places and new species and a land where he was not No-One – he could be someone. He could imagine such fantastic beasts..."

_A dog, made entirely of fog, slipping and sliding between the trees of the forest – hardly there, yet present too. A rat with a long and bushy tail that could leap from such great heights and land on its feet. A fish – but not a fish – an underwater creature, so large, so majestic, it was deemed the king of the oceans. _

"Such wondrous places."

_A land where the oceans were only the deepest, strongest blue, and stretched for many miles. Warm sand, whites and yellows and every shade in between. The leaves were green and there were flowers of so many different colours – but the forests gave way to mountains. Such tall mountains, reaching for the heavens where the Gods dwelt and looked down upon their dominion and smiled._

"Of all these creatures, and all these places, there was one that he was most fond of. The fire peacock."

_And oh, how he loved that bird. Tall and proud, it stood upon its noble perch and looked to the sky and seemed to understand the ways of the world, the stars that twinkled upon a black blanket, the movement of the suns. The bird, with such knowledge of all that was and all that is and all that would be, the king and the queen and the prince of all beasts. The others would bow before it, but he was allowed access. And the fire peacock would regard him, silently, its sharp beak glinting as eyes – blue eyes – investigated him and understood him and comprehended him, and he knew he had found an ally._

"And when the brightness turned into darkness, the fire peacock was there. When his imaginary worlds were shattered, and there was nothing but despair and suffering and pain, the fire peacock lingered just out of sight – but it was too powerful to be corrupted by the reality of the real world – and when No-One picked himself up from the ground, the fire peacock was there. Waiting. Watching. A guiding light in only the darkest of nights."

_The fire peacock stayed with him. On his shoulder, by his side, at his hand. When there were taunts, the fire peacock seemed to chase them away. When he was lost, the fire peacock would help him to find his way home. Yet it never spoke – it never made a sound – it was just there._

"No-One grew, and as he did, things began to change. He became aware of his own power – a power that was within him – it could not be seen, it was not visible – yet it was certainly there, inside his very soul. Like a flame, burning, like that of his beloved fire peacock."

_Older now, and more aware of that power. But around him too, the world was changing._

"A shadow was rising."

_Rising from the ashes, a power that would threaten the lives of all those who inhabited No-One's very fragile world. He would soon learn the price of mortality and the weakness of life, and he would soon learn of the power that could be awarded to the one with the most ambition._

"And oh, how such a child could be tempted. A child, with a brilliant mind but nothing else – how No-One could be tempted by the promise to become someone better, to become someone stronger – to become someone. How No-One longed for people to speak his name, and tremble at the very syllables – and as his obsession grew with his age, and his delusions grew with his power, and his very soul was poisoned by words and thoughts and actions that originated from inside his chest – he lost something most dear to him."

_It was the night of his greatest crime, his greatest sin, the night he sacrificed his soul._

"He did not notice. He did not need to notice. He did not need that fire peacock any longer – he had become this powerful master, soon to be the master of all. He needed no childish fantasy – he needed no imaginary worlds – for his world now contained everything he had so desired, everything he had ever wanted, everything he had needed. No-One was Some-One, and that felt so very good."

_His blood ran black. His words carried poison. His eyes were black. He saw nothing but the darkness, and the darkness welcomed him, and he welcomed the darkness. The darkness tasted and devoured and savoured the taste of such a once pure soul – stealing any light away – the soul of a child – a child no longer._

"Why then did it feel so wrong?"

_Why did he challenge that which had promised him such glory?_

"Why did he feel that he had made a mistake?"

_What was the voice that pleaded with him to turn back. To repent, before it was too late?_

"The darkness led to a fever of the blood and he wished he could scratch his flesh away. Beneath his skin, he could feel it itching and he hated it – he hated the feeling of not being himself – not being in his own body – and he tried to make it stop – but instead, it continued. It grew more potent – and he knew then. He knew then, that he had to stop."

_It had to end._

"It had to end."

_And he fled. He fled, No-One, retreating from the darkness into deeper darkness still with no place to go – following an impulse and nothing more – and when he fell, and when he hit his hands and knees, he cried – not because he was feeling self pity, but because he realised that somewhere – somehow – somewhen – his heart had been broken, and there was no way it could be repaired._

"In the dark of the longest night, he cried, curled into a ball, unable to face the world and wishing that – with enough tears and enough hurt – someone would take pity on him and end his foolish and worthless existence. He coughed and he spluttered and something took a hold of his chest – and cold wrapped around his very bones and chilled him to his core. Exhaustion stole the vitality from him and replaced it with gnawing hunger, and his energy drained away through his fingertips. He had not the strength to raise his head – he had not strength to move – he could only lie there, and when his tears finally froze against his cheeks and his eyes fluttered closed, he was ready to give in."

_He wanted to give up. No-One wanted to give up._

"Sleep or unconsciousness or something not of this world stole his consciousness and drowned him in blackness. If this was death, then he welcomed it."

_For everyone had given up on No-One._

"They say that the darkest hour is just before the dawn."

_A red sun, rising, bringing with it unfamiliar warmth and a strange feeling of numbness._

"When he forced his eyes to open, he no longer lay amongst the dirt and the dust and the ashes. There was light – so much light – it blinded him at first, because he was not used to such purity."

_He blinked and shied away, because he did not deserve such light and he did not wish to be exposed for everything he had become, for the truth was too hard for him to comprehend._

"While the light did not disappear, the heat did. The burning did. It left him feeling soothed, and he finally fought to find the strength to open his eyes – just once."

_His vision was blurred and unclear and he could not be sure._

"But he wanted to believe, so much. He wanted to believe – that – he could see it."

_Opposite him, watching him, tall and noble._

"Investigating and understanding and comprehending him."

_Tall and proud._

"The fire peacock, for there was no other creature so beautiful and so noble."

_And he shook his head – he felt so dirty – how could the fire peacock stand to look upon him, he, who had abused everything the fire peacock had fought for and stood for. He did not want to be looked upon and he did not want to disappoint._

"The fire peacock did not speak. It sang."

_One note. One note – one perfect note – that vibrated within him._

"It seemed to touch his very core."

_It wrapped a salve around his shattered heart and he felt its warmth brushing his frozen soul._

"It was almost painful – yet the pain was perfect, too."

_He knew then, that he could fixed._

"Perhaps then, it was possible for him to be saved. This boy, who had done so wrong – perhaps it was possible for him to be saved."

_And as he lay there, in that bed, eyes closed once more and now in a healing sleep, there was a voice. Perhaps the fire peacock's song had become words._

"It was so near, and so far too. But he remembered every word."

"_I will save you."_

"I will save you."

Severus drifted away into thought and did not speak any more. Albus watched him. "That was an interesting story, Severus."

Severus jolted back to the present. "Story?" He turned his eyes on Albus. "Yes. The story of a saviour – a Christmas moral – that there is light in even the darkest of places."

Albus nodded his head and continued to contemplate Severus. "Where did you get the inspiration from?"

Still distant, Severus simply answered, "It's just a story." He was silent for a moment more. "I must fetch you a potion to help you sleep." He stood and moved toward the door. Albus watched him go, eyebrows knotted into a frown. Severus' story had entranced and hypnotised him with its soft word, lilting tone and message – the message of a saviour.

And Albus wondered just how much truth there had been in that story.

Because after all, the first thing he had said to Severus – after he had found him, that night, outside Hogwarts in fever and practically unconscious – when he had leaned over that sleeping child, and murmured close to his ear, had been four words.

"_I will save you."_

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><p><em>~ And to think, when I started this story, it was meant to be light hearted! Ah well – the trouble of sitting down to write stories in one session, I suppose! I hope everyone enjoyed, it was certainly a little different for SS19!<em>


	20. Chapter 20

_SS19 is really struggling at the moment in terms of writing and muse with the rather shitty happenings that are corrupting her life - but she is doing her absolute best given the circumstances. Problem is, she is so emotionally involved with her writing that she has to be in a particular mood, and considering she is not feeling Christmassy in the least…however. She is going to give it her best shot. Thank you for your patience and understanding._

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><p>Albus had an inkling that Severus was up to something. Well, Severus was almost always up to <em>something <em>- but the past two days, Albus had certainly noticed something interesting in his young friend. Not that Severus wasn't a generally suspicious looking person anyway - he was certainly rather dark, and he had a habit of smirking knowingly when he was in conversation with someone. Couple that with the fact he kept glancing sideways at Albus at the breakfast table this morning, and Albus was beginning to get concerned. He was not quite sure if covering Albus in very wet and cold snow was enough revenge and whether Severus' quest and desire for vengeance had been satiated just yet - and as a result, he had been careful with what he ate, drank, touched, sat on, slept in…anything that might have access to Severus and his cunning, Slytherin ways. But still - the smirks and the glances and the staring off into space suggested that Severus was, quite simply, up to something.

Christmas was very much upon the staff and students of Hogwarts - they had bid farewell to most of the student body and nearly everyone was merry and bright and filled with Christmas spirit. Albus looked once again toward Severus, two seats away, and found the other absentmindedly rolling a cracker between his two hands as he stared at Albus. He leaned forward, over the blissfully unaware Minerva, and cleared his throat. To his delight, Severus jumped, and was startled - as if he had been caught doing something that he should not have been. Or at least thinking about something he should not have been thinking about - which meant, of course, that Albus could play with this. "Severus. How many times. Please do not fantasise about me in public."

An angry flush coloured Severus' cheeks as he glared at Albus, "I can assure you that was not what I was thinking about."

"Would you like to enlighten me as to what you were thinking about, Severus, as it seemed rather intellectual?"

Severus shook his head and stood. "I decline to be in your presence any longer, Headmaster - you are utterly incorrigible."

Taking that as a compliment, Albus smiled genially at Severus and let the other go. He followed Severus as he stormed from the hall, chuckling to himself as he pictured a fantasy he probably should not consider - Minerva cut across this, "You should watch him. I heard him asking Filius how much magic it would take to set something alight. I did not hear what the something was."

Pomona piped up too, "I saw him interrogating one of your gargoyles, Albus. He did seem rather irate, in fact."

Albus looked to both of the women, narrowing is eyes, "He said - what?"

Sybil was already drinking whiskey in her pumpkin juice. "Beware the man in black."

The three other teachers currently involved in the conversation glanced toward her. She hiccuped and smiled serenely, "He's up to something. Mark my words. He is up to something."

Albus decided that this was the time to make the conversation more open, "Anyone else overhear Severus doing anything out of character?"

"As a matter of fact - " Filius decided it was finally time to join in, "I saw him sneaking into his office last night - and he looked like he was trying to hide things in the front of his robes. Either that, or he gains and thus loses a lot of weight overnight."

Albus had a rather amusing mental image in his mind as he pictured that, before returning his attention to his staff. "Very well. Clearly, our secretive Head of Slytherin is acting suspiciously…."

They were all interrupted when they heard Peeves catapult into the Great Hall screeching, "Intruder alert! Intruder alert! Intruder in the Headmaster-head-ship's office!"

Albus exhaled exasperatedly, "Wonderful. How did he get past my gargoyles?"

"Albus, he knows your passwords - you spend more time together than anyone else?" Minerva prompted.

Albus silently swore to change his passwords more regularly. It was only then that he remembered what Minerva had said - setting things alight - he stood. "I shall deal with this alone, I think." He headed toward the exit to the Great Hall, silencing Peeves as he did so with a wave of his hand. He wandered up the marble staircase and two other floors before coming to a halt outside his office, and the two gargoyles that stared back at him. "Well, do not stand there so stony!" Albus was pleased with his pun, "Sherbet lemon."

But the gargoyles did not move.

Albus was surprised for a moment, "Excuse me? Sherbet lemon?" Even if the password was wrong, the gargoyles would normally respond to his voice - knowing that he was a slightly absent-minded old man. He folded his arms into his robes, "I know you let Severus into my office - may I ask if this is the reason behind this sudden disobedience?"

The gargoyles did not answer.

"Of course you will not answer." Albus muttered unhappily, "Clearly my slippery serpent friend has bribed you. Do not make me evoke the ancient rite that is given to a Headmaster - I find it rather tiring and ostentatious."

He waited a moment more, before opening his mouth to do just that - and then the gargoyles leapt aside. Albus raised an eyebrow, "My, my. Pardon my surprise. I thought that _my_ gargoyles guarding _my_ office might actually answer _my_ command." He headed up the spiral staircase and opened the door to his office, expecting to find Severus doing something vaguely Death-Eater related. Instead, he found something else.

The room was lit with tiny candles. They were everywhere - on the bookshelves, the cabinets, the windowsills - the room was darkened unnaturally with a spell Albus recognised as Severus' handiwork, so the candles twinkled brightly and flickered gently and he was touched by the very beauty of it. He advanced further into the room, and as he did so, the candles brightened - and more light was visible to him - and he could see that his Christmas tree had moved so it was against the window - and there were boxes beneath the lower branches - the fireplace was adorned with tinsel and a stocking that he didn't recognise - and as he looked more, he could see more tinsel and decorations where he had not had the time to decorate or even consider improving his office. He gripped the back of his sofa and spoke into the darkness. "It's beautiful. I must ask though. Why?"

There was no response for a long moment. Then, a voice. "You helped me to realise what Christmas was for. But you didn't have time to do anything in your own office - and I thought someone needed to make you smile, for a change." Severus was lingering in the doorway to Albus' bedroom and adjoining rooms. "I wanted to do something for you."

Albus smiled into the blackness and looked toward the voice. "It's perfect."

He imagined Severus smiled. "Good. That's what I wanted."


	21. Chapter 21

_Merry Christmas to all my readers. You are wonderful people - I care so much for you all, and without you I would not exist. Here's to next year and a year of writing and getting to know you all. Yours, in debt. SS19_

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><p>Twas the night before Christmas, and not a creature was stirring, not even an owl. The lights in the Headmaster's office were dark as a solitary figure dozed lightly on the sofa. The fire had died to dull embers, and the office was comfortably warm. He had been asleep for several hours, and did not stir when the clock - on the mantlepiece beside him - softly began to chime for midnight.<p>

It was the rustling and sudden shuffling and thudding that threw him from sleep with a startled gasp. He sat up on the sofa, throwing the cloak away, blinking into the darkness.

There was coughing. "I am getting too old for this."

He got to his feet and peered into the blackness, "Who's there?"

A pause, and then, "Ah. In all my many years, I have never awoken anyone. I must be losing my touch."

He wanted to reach for the lights, but something stopped him. The intruder's voice indicated that he was smiling, "That would ruin the magic, putting the lights on." Another hesitation, "Might I ask for your name, child?"

"Child? I am no child. And I might ask for your name." He raised his head, and the intruder replied. "Ah, but of course. Only one person could challenge me in such a way. You are Severus Snape, are you not?"

Severus bristled. "And why should I not put the lights on?"

"Because, as I say. That would ruin the magic. Do you know who I am, yet?"

Severus narrowed his eyes, "No."

"Oh, I think you do. Who else travels around in the dead of night on Christmas Eve?"

Severus folded his arms over his chest. "Do not be so ridiculous. You are just a legend. A myth, told to children to ensure they behave themselves during the year."

"Did he ever visit you?"

"No. But then again. I was never a good child." Severus shook his hair back from his face, "You cannot be him."

"Your logical and perceptive mind cannot comprehend what is stood before you? Are you not a Potioneer, Severus? Surely pure fact outweighs your superstitions?"

Severus shook his head. "No. It cannot. I cannot see you, after all. For all I know, this could be some dream."

"But wouldn't you like it to be real? Just this once? Wouldn't you like something you believe in to be real?" The voice paused, "Because I know you believe in Father Christmas, Severus Snape."

Severus did not answer straight away. "I believe in a saviour who will lead us from the darkness. I never said anything about Father Christmas."

"I think in your mind, they are one and the same."

Severus reached out, just once. His fingers brushed against a soft beard and he wanted to clutch at it - but he pulled his hand away instead. "This is not real. I am asleep."

"You are such a sad child, Severus. It would be nice, once in a while, to see you smile." He reached into his sack, at his side, and pulled out the final present. "Maybe, this can accomplish at least one person's Christmas wish?"

Severus took the package from him and brushed a hand against his shoulder uncomfortably. "Thank you."

The figure brushed one hand against Severus' cheek in a way that was almost familiar to the younger man, before turning away. "I must be gone. It is long past midnight - and Christmas Day dawns. Merry Christmas, Severus."

Severus held onto his present, trying to rationalise the situation - but before he could speak again, he was alone. "Hello?" He spoke into the darkness, "Hello?"

"Are you quite all right, my boy? Nightmares, again?" Albus' voice reached him from the doorway to his rooms.

Severus whirled to face him, and Albus switched on the lights to find Severus stood, holding a present, looking rather bewildered. It was an amusing image. He smiled and came closer to Severus. "Severus?"

"I - ah - " Severus shook his head, and then lowered himself to sit on the sofa. "I must be hallucinating."

Albus touched his hand as he sat next to Severus, "I am very real." He looked at the package, "Who is this from?"

"Uh." Severus breathed out slowly. "Father Christmas."

Albus almost laughed, "I did not know you believed in him."

Severus looked at him. "I - I -" He smiled. "He told me I needed to smile more. That it was someone's Christmas wish."

Albus tightened his fingers around Severus'. "It's late. You should be sleeping." He coaxed Severus to lie back down and covered him with his cloak. "Sleep well, my child."

Severus didn't let go of his hand straight away, "Merry Christmas, Albus."

"Merry Christmas, Severus." He waited until Severus' breathing had levelled once more before standing and once more returning toward his room. He closed his door and wandered to his bed. He glanced inside the trunk that remained open, glimpsing the red fabric and the white trim. He half smiled, before closing the lid.

He would not be needing it for another year, after all.


End file.
